


Masterpiece Theater

by revengeparty



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:41:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 376
Words: 192,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeparty/pseuds/revengeparty
Summary: Prompted drabbles that are too short to stand alone. Prompts enclosed with each chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to post these on here for awhile now. They're currently also published on ff.net (@getpitchslapped) and my Tumblr (@amanaryouserious). These date back to early 2013 and are ordered (mostly) chronologically. There are literally hundreds of these, so it may take awhile to get them all up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe have a big fight because Beca keeps closing herself off. But, beca is only being secretive because she is writing a song for Chloe.

When Beca made mixes, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. It was just her and her headphones. She always pictured puzzles pieces, jumbled in a mess on the floor, waiting to be put back together—except the pieces were baselines and downbeats. Hours went by like seconds as Beca became totally engrossed in her work. Nothing could distract her. She was in her zone. She—

“Hey,” a voice purred in her ear. 

Beca jumped, slamming the lid of her laptop shut and almost knocking the source of the voice in the chin with her shoulder. She looked up to see Chloe standing over her, a half-smirk on her face. “H-hi.”

“What’re you doing?” she asked, brushing a stray strand of hair off of Beca’s face.

“Nothing,” the brunette said quickly, resting her headphones around her neck. A frown passed briefly over Chloe’s face, but it vanished quickly.

“Good,” she said, “so you don’t have any objections for going out tonight. It’s karaoke night.” She smiled expectantly at her girlfriend.

There was a pause. “Actually…” Beca said, unconsciously pushing her desk chair back a few inches.

Chloe’s face fell. “Really, Beca? Again? This is the third time you’ve blown me off this week!”

Beca stood and reached for her girlfriend’s hand. “I—”

“No,” Chloe said, pulling her hand away, her voice suddenly very small. “Is it me, Beca? Do you really not to be with me so much that your goddamn  _computer_  takes precedence?”

Beca’s heart dropped. “That’s not it,” she said, running both hands through her hair.

“Then explain it to me, Beca, because I don’t get it,” Chloe spat, voice cracking and eyes blazing.

“I love you,” Beca said. “I do. More than anything. This mix, it’s just…it’s really important.”

Chloe let out a hollow laugh. “Clearly it’s more important than me.” She turned to leave the room.

“Wait!” Beca called lunging forward to stop the redhead. “Nothing in the entire world is more important to me than you.” She reached for her girlfriend’s hand, and this time Chloe didn’t pull away.

“You’ve been hiding in here for a week, Beca,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I find it hard to believe what you’re saying.”

Beca pulled Chloe over to her mixing station. “I was going to give it to you on your birthday, but…” She trailed off and pulled up the song she’d been working on and hit play. “It’s not finished yet.”

As the song progressed, a smile crept onto Chloe’s face. “Oh.”

“Yeah,  _oh_ ,” Beca said, hugging her girlfriend tightly. “I love you. Do you believe me now?”

Chloe kissed the brunette on the tip of her nose. “Sort of,” she said, pushing Beca towards their bed. “But you’ll have to show me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's past graduation plan is joining the Coast Guard.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Why?”

“Do you even know what the Coast Guard  _does_?”

Chloe looked at Beca, who was seated next to her on the couch. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah? What do they do, then?” Beca asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I want to save the manatees,” Chloe said, scrolling down some page on her laptop.

“I think you’re confusing that with Sea World.”

“No, look.” The redhead pointed to a page with the header  _U.S. Coast Guard Environmental Protection._

Beca leaned in to read the page. “Uh, Chloe? You’re reading Wikipedia.”

“So?”

“ _So_ ,” Beca said, shaking her head, “that is not a reliable source of information.”

“It is too,” Chloe said, clicking on another article. Beca shook her head and got up from the couch, going into the bedroom she and Chloe shared. A few minutes later, she came back and plopped down next to her girlfriend.

“Now look at the page.”

Chloe obliged, reading a line that Beca was pointing to. “The Coast Guard is a mariachi band from Sweden.” She lightly whacked the brunette on the head, trying to suppress a smile.

“I told you it wasn’t reliable,” Beca said, smiling smugly.

“You’re a goober,” Chloe said, laughing. “I still want to join the Coast Guard.”

“Oh yeah? Look up their uniforms.”

A moment passed as Chloe typed into Google. She wrinkled her nose at the result. “I changed my mind.”

“That’s what I thought."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe admits to Beca that Tom (shower boy) is just a distraction because she has a huge crush on someone (someone being Beca) but refuses to tell Beca who it is.

“Unicycle.”

“No.”

“Luke.”

“Radio station manager Luke?”

“Yep.”

“No.”

It’s a Wednesday night. Chloe had unceremoniously let herself in to Beca’s dorm room—brandishing nail polish and magazines—declaring they needed to have a “girl’s night”. Protesting, when it comes to Chloe, is futile—Beca knows  _that_  from experience. So she had sighed resignedly and let Chloe paint her fingernails with a fresh coat of black (absolutely no amount of pouting would break Beca’s strong anti-pink philosophy) and a pinkie-swear that none would get on the carpet, lest Kimmy Jin look too closely. Somehow, Shower Tom had gotten brought up (it probably started with the not-so-discreet hickey on the left side of Chloe’s neck). To Beca’s surprise (and, maybe, just a little bit, chagrin) Chloe had admitted with averted eyes that Tom was, as she put it, a “distraction”. From whom, Chloe would not reveal.

“Bumper.” Beca paces the narrow space between the two beds, firing off guesses like a game show contestant. 

“ _God_ , no,” Chloe says, gagging audibly. She sits with her back resting against Beca’s bed, knees drawn up to her chest.

“Benji.” With every guess, Beca eyes Chloe carefully for any unconscious reactions.

“Who?”

“Nevermind.” Beca sighs and sinks down onto Kimmy Jin’s bed before immediately springing back up and smoothing out the blanket. “Is it a Treble?”

Chloe shakes her head, looking half-annoyed and half-amused at Beca’s rapid-fire. “No. Why do you care so much?”

“We’re having a girl’s night,” Beca says, frowning. “This is girl talk, no?” She takes Chloe’s face-palm as an indicator to continue. “Is it a High Note?”

“No.”

“BU Harmonic?”

“No.”

“Are they in a capella?” Chloe merely nods, finding interest in a loose thread on the carpet. Beca stops her pacing. “Bella?”

A beat of silence passes. The only indication that Chloe even heard her question is the slight flush that creeps up her neck. “Never mind,” Beca says, sitting down and holding out her hands to Chloe. “Are you gonna finish my nails or what?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about a prompt using the song "So Much Love" by The Rocket Summer?

“You got so much love in you  
You got so much love in you  
I’m amazed that I’m talkin’ to you  
You look like that I’ve heard my whole li—" 

"Beca  _Mitchell._ ”

Startled, Beca drops the plate she was washing, it falling back into the tub of soapy water with a soft  _plop_. She whirls around, face reddening, to see Chloe in the doorway of the kitchen, hands on her hips and a smile twitching at her lips.

“I, uh—”

“You are so cute,” Chloe says, striding towards her and pecking her on the lips. She grabs a towel from the counter and starts drying the already-washed dishes stacked beside the sink. 

“I’m not cute,” Beca huffs, wiping some hair off of her forehead with the back of her wrist. 

“You’re cute,” Chloe says definitively, grinning at Beca’s pouty expression. “Especially when you do that." 

They work in silence for a few minutes, Beca handing clean dishes and Chloe drying them and putting them away, still wearing that smirk. 

"You’re laughing at me,” Beca says, eyeing her girlfriend.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Do you hear me laughing?”

“You’re laughing on the inside. I can tell,” Beca insists, and Chloe shakes her head, bumping Beca’s hip lightly.

They fall quiet again, until Chloe starts singing softly under her breath, still smiling: “ So, so, so much love in you, you got so much love in you.”

“Shut up,” Beca says, flushing again.

“You look like the songs that I’ve heard my whole life comin’ true,” Chloe sings, louder now, between giggles.

“Shut  _up._ ”

“So, so, so much love in y—”

“That’s it.” Beca blows a handful of soap suds into Chloe’s face. Chloe squeals and frowns as Beca doubles over with laughter at Chloe’s shocked expression and the clump of suds dangling from one of her eyebrows.

“Is this funny to you?” she asks, crossing her arms. Beca can only manage to nod as tears start to form at the corners of her eyes.

“Okay then,” Chloe says, “see if you think  _this_  is funny.” She grabs the detachable hose from the sink and aims it at Beca, hitting her in the face with a spray of warm water. Beca’s laughter stops abruptly as she sputters, wiping her face with her sleeve. Chloe claps a hand over her mouth in an attempt to keep from cracking up, a snort escaping before she dissolves into giggles.

“You are a dead man, Beale,” Beca says, lunging at Chloe, who turns and flees down the hall with Beca chasing after her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca's a world famous DJ and recording artist. She uses her performance at the Grammy's to propose to Chloe. The former Bellas and Trebles have been invited to take part.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Could you maybe sing something a little more… classy?”

Beca stills her fingers over the keys of her laptop and squints up at Aubrey. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Aubrey says, waving her hands animatedly. “It’s just—Bruno Mars? As a marriage proposal?”

Beca crosses her arms. “I bought the ring, I pick what to sing.”

“Speaking of which, gimme the ring,” Aubrey says, holding out an outstretched palm.

“What? Why?”

“You’ll lose it.” Aubrey wiggles her fingers in front of Beca’s face.

“I will  _not_ ,” Beca huffs.

“Oh, yeah? Where is it right now?”

“It’s right here,” Beca says, pushing her laptop to the side and digging through the bag resting at her feet. “Er… maybe it’s in my room. Hang on.” She slides off the couch and disappears around the corner. She slinks back into the room after a few minutes, empty-handed.

“Couldn’t find it?” Aubrey’s smirking now. Beca just bites her lip and shakes her head. Aubrey digs into her pocket and pulls out a small, black velvet box. 

Beca’s eyes widen. “Where did you get that?”

“You left it on the  _bathroom_   _counter_ , you moron,” Aubrey says, stashing the box in her purse. “Ergo, I am holding onto it.”

Beca just shakes her head and returns to her computer.

**——**

“Got the ring?” The noise backstage is deafening, so Jesse has to shout to be heard. 

Beca nods and pats her back pocket. “Yep.” She bounces on her toes a few times nervously. “Everyone’s here?”

“Check. Chloe, Aubrey and the Bellas are in row 12 and the Trebles are right behind them,” Jesse says, giving Beca’s shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“ _And now, a very special performance by two-time Grammy winner and DJ extraordinaire, Beca Mitchell!”_  

Beca turns to Jesse, eyes wide with sudden panic. “What if she says no?” Jesse bursts out laughing, attempting to sober his expression when Beca glares at him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But there’s no way in hell she’ll say no. Now go!” He gently pushes Beca towards the stage entrance, and she disappears through the door.

**——**

Chloe’s bouncing up and down in her seat. “There she is!” She catches Beca’s eye and gives her a thumbs-up. Beca grins nervously in response, left hand clutched tight around the microphone. The first strains of music bellow out of the speakers, and Chloe grips Aubrey’s arm in anticipation.

_“It’s a beautiful night_  
We’re looking for something dumb to do.  
Hey baby  
_I think I wanna marry you.”_

Aubrey watches as Chloe breaks into that goofy, wide grin she does whenever she watches Beca perform. The Bellas, Trebles, and the rest of the crowd is shouting and cheering as Beca finds her rhythm on the stage. 

_“Is it the look in your eyes  
_ _Or is it this dancing juice?_  
Who cares, baby…”

As Beca sings the final lines, she gets down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of her back pocket and pointing at Chloe, who claps her hands over her mouth, eyes wide with surprise, nodding faintly.

_“I think I wanna marry you.”_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. It's raining hard. They're forced to enter a telephone booth together. You can take it from there.:)

“Light showers, my ass,” Beca mutters, peering out of the foggy glass. Rain was coming down by the bucketful from the sky, running in sheets down the glass walls of the telephone booth Beca had been forced to take shelter in. Until this moment, she hadn’t even been  _aware_  that pay phones still existed. She peels off her soaked windbreaker, cursing whoever decided to dump out the clouds the very moment she’d been walking down a semi-deserted street. Suddenly, the door opens behind her, rain blowing into the tiny both and onto her already-wet T-shirt. A person—a girl, to be exact—scurries in, pressing Beca into the glass as she squeezes herself in. 

“Mind if I join you?” says the girl, pulling off her hood to reveal damp auburn tendrils stuck to her face.

Beca stares at her. “Yeah, kinda.“

The girl either hadn’t heard or chose to ignore her, because she proceeds to stick out her hand and say, “I’m Chloe.”

Beca shifts to face Chloe, pulling her arm out from where it was pressed into the corner of the booth, and shakes her hand halfheartedly. “Beca.“

Chloe beams at her. Beca finds herself momentarily mesmerized by the other girl’s eyes; they were the most intense shade of blue she’d ever seen on a human being. “I think that we’re going to be really fast friends,” Chloe says, leaning in towards Beca slightly.

“Okay, girl I met thirty seconds ago,” Beca says, raising an eyebrow. She wipes the hair that had been plastered to her forehead by the rain when Chloe suddenly grabs her wrist, pulling it towards her.

“Hey!” Beca says, going to snatch her arm back when Chloe taps a finger on the headphones tattoo on the inside of her wrist.  _This girl is nuts,_  Beca thinks absently.

“What’s this for?” Chloe asks, tracing her fingertip along the curve of the headphones, making Beca shiver a little.

“I like music,” Beca offers lamely, retracting her arm when Chloe releases her grip and tucking it behind her back.

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Me, too!“ She squeals—actually squeals—and, if possible, presses closer, inadvertently cornering Beca, who makes a half-smile, half-grimace at this obviously nutty girl. “Do you sing?” Chloe asks, so close Beca can smell her shampoo.

“No,” Beca lies, because it seems like the path of less conversation and she’s starting to have a little trouble breathing.

Chloe studies her for a long minute, in a way that makes Beca feel a little nervous and a lot uncomfortable. “Wait, don’t you go to Barden?“

"How did you know that?” Beca’s eyes widen slightly. She wasn’t a terribly social person; besides mixing and the radio station (and the occasional class), Beca was an almost total recluse. Definitely not the type this very beautiful, and probably very popular girl would interact with.

Chloe laughs at her. “Calm down, I’m not a stalker. I’m friends with Luke, the station manager? I’ve heard some of your stuff on the radio.“ She squeezes Beca’s arm, which makes the brunette jump. “It’s really good.”

“Uh, thanks,” Beca says, eyeing where Chloe’s hand is still wrapped around her bicep.

“You should audition for the Bellas!” Chloe exclaims, as if suddenly struck by the idea. “We sing all over the world and compete in national championships.“

Beca snorts. “On purpose?”

Chloe whacks her lightly on the shoulder before Beca bats her hand away. “One time, we sang backup for Prince.“ She leans in ever closer, so the two are only inches apart. “Please?”

“If I say yes, will you take three steps back?” Beca presses her body against the wall as far as it’ll go.

Chloe claps her hands excitedly and engulfs Beca in a bear hug. “Three. Steps. Back,“ Beca breathes into the redhead’s ear, already planning in her head how to blow off the audition.

Chloe obliges with a smile, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. “What’s your number?”

“Has anyone ever told you about stranger danger? I could be dangerous. I already kind of want to kill you,” Beca says. Chloe just rolls her eyes in response.

“I need to make sure you don’t try to skip auditions,” Chloe says, holding her phone under Beca’s nose. Beca sighs and taps in her number, scolding herself in her head for giving into this nutjob so easily.

“Oh, look, it stopped raining so hard,” Beca says over-enthusiastically, gesturing to the outside and not-so-gently nudging Chloe towards the exit. Once she’s finally outside, she puts a good two feet of space between her and Chloe and takes deep breaths. “I gotta go,“ she says, gesturing vaguely behind her.

"I’ll call you,” Chloe says, smiling and waving as she turns to walk in the opposite direction.

“Wha—why?” Beca asks, starting to regret giving out her number.

“Maybe we can go out sometime. You’re so cute,” Chloe says, laughing at Beca’s narrowed eyes. “Yes, you are. Like a wet raccoon.“ Beca blinks, completely unsure of how to react to this person. “Bye!” Chloe says, strolling away, leaving Beca standing confusedly on the sidewalk.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe prompt: Chloe discovers cut marks on Beca's arm and is terribly concerned. Fluff.

“Beca.”

“What?” Beca pauses, hairbrush in hand, poised above her head. Chloe reaches for her arm and gently tugs it down, turning her hand palm-up and inspecting the skin. There are several long, angry red marks zig-zagging across her forearms.

Chloe looks at her seriously. “What’s this?”

Beca flushes. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“Of course I won’t laugh at you,” Chloe says, a terribly concerned expression on her face.

Beca takes a deep breath. “Okay, so I saw this cat—” Immediately, Chloe claps her hand over her mouth, a few snorts escaping. “Hey!” Beca protests, lightly shoving at the redhead’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Chloe says, fingertips still pressed to her lips.

“I saw this cat and I tried to pet it but it… disagreed with me,” Beca mutters, flicking  Chloe on the forehead when she dissolves into giggles. 

“You’re just so cute,” Chloe says defensively, nuzzling into Beca’s side.

“I am not,” Beca says, but hugs Chloe sideways anyway.

“You are. Now, do we have any peroxide?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. Random party. A guy hits on Chloe. She grabs Beca and pretends that they're girlfriends. Dancing. Tension. You can take it from there. :)

“Hey,” someone says from behind Chloe, his breath hot in her ear. She turns around to see a tall dude with slicked-back brown hair and a well-chiseled jawline standing immediately behind her.

“Uh, hi,” Chloe says, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell of alcohol on his breath.

“You’re hot,” the guy slurs, snaking his hands around Chloe’s waist. “Let’s dance.”

Chloe tries to pry the guy’s large hands from their grasp on her, but he clings to the material of her shirt. “No, thanks,” she says, pushing gently at his chest, hoping he’ll get the hint.

The guy pulls her in closer to him. He smells like Axe body spray and sweat. “C'mon,” he urges, slipping one hand southward to rest on the back pocket of Chloe’s jeans.

“Stop,” Chloe warns, tugging at the hand. 

“Easy there, tiger,” says someone from behind Chloe. She turns to the voice, seeing a very small brunette with a multitude of ear piercings. 

Chloe grabs the girl’s arm with the hand that isn’t wrestling with the guy’s groping and pulls the girl to her side.

“This is my girlfriend,” Chloe says, snaking an arm around her shoulders. The girl raises an eyebrow, and Chloe shoots her a pleading look in response. 

“That’s right,” the girl says, forcing herself between Chloe and the guy. “So back off.”

The guy looks from Chloe to her tiny savior stupidly. “Fine, whatever,” he mutters. “I’m getting another drink.” He releases his grip on Chloe and stalks away.

“ _Thank_  you,” Chloe breathes, turning to face the girl. 

“It’s nothing,” she says, shrugging under the weight of Chloe’s arm, which is still wrapped around her shoulders.

“It is. You’re my little knight in shining armor,” Chloe says, grinning when the girl rolls her eyes in response.

“I’m Beca,” she says.

“Chloe.” She retracts her hand from Beca’s shoulders, lightly trailing her fingers along the girl’s jawline as she does so. “So,” she says, “girlfriends, huh?”

Beca smirks. “Guess so.”

Chloe inches closer, slipping her hands around Beca’s waist, swaying slowly in time with the music.

“Your hands are on my waist,” Beca says, looking down at the arms wrapped around her.

“So they are.”

“Is this our first date?” Beca jokes, resting her arms lazily over Chloe’s shoulders.

“Of course not,” Chloe says mock-seriously. “You haven’t bought me dinner.”

 Beca leans in, brushing her nose ever-so-slightly against Chloe’s. “Well then, let’s fix that,” she whispers, and tugs at Chloe’s hand, leading them to the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. Kisscam. You can take it from there. :)

“Oh, nice! Beca, did you see that?”

Beca looks up from her iPhone and quickly glances at the in-progress baseball game on the field below her. “Yep. Great.”

“You’re not watching,” Jesse whines, looking even more like an adolescent with a pout on his face and a backwards-facing Braves baseball cap on his head.

“I am, it’s really interesting,” Beca drawls, returning her gaze to the phone in her lap.

“Why’d you agree to come if you’re just going to spend the whole time on your phone?” Jesse has queued up his best puppy-dog face. It’s almost cute. Almost.

Beca stares at him. “Because you said you’d buy me nachos.”

“C'mon, Bec, just try and watch,” Jesse pleads, attempting to swipe the phone from Beca’s grasp.

“I don’t see nachos,” Beca says, holding the phone over her head.

“Fine.” Jesse sighs and stands. “But then you have to watch the game.”

“A'ight.” Beca shoots him an overly-enthusiastic smile. Jesse rolls his eyes good-naturedly and walks away.

Beca returns to scrolling through her phone when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns to find a redhead with eyes so blue it almost hurts to look into them. “Hi?”

“Hi,” the girl says. “Sorry, this is kind of weird, but that twist-thing on the back of your head? It’s ridiculous.”

Beca touches the horizontal French twist she had weaved into her hair that morning. “Um, thanks,” she says, blushing under the girl’s intense gaze.

The girl laughs. “Don’t be insecure.  _Own_  it. I’m Chloe.”

“Beca.” She holds her hand out for a handshake, but Chloe wraps her arm around Beca’s shoulders and gives a quick squeeze. Beca inhales too quickly and coughs.

“Where’s your boyfriend? Is he getting you food?” Chloe asks, peering around Beca.

Beca laughs. “He’s getting food, but he’s definitely not my boyfriend.”

“Good,” Chloe says, smiling. She looks at Beca curiously. “You don’t seem to be very into baseball.”

“I’m not,” Beca says. “I only came because Jesse—my friend—said he’d buy me nachos.”

“Seems reasonable.” Chloe holds up a plastic bag. “Do you like Mike ‘n’ Ikes?” she asks, shaking the bag a bit.

“No, that’s okay, I—" 

"Beca!” Beca turns to see Jesse sliding into his seat, toting a plastic tray of nachos and holding them under her nose.

“Thanks,” Beca says shortly, taking the food and turning back to Chloe. Suddenly, she feels Jesse poking her in the side.

“Beca.”  _Poke, poke._  “Beca." 

"Not now,” Beca hisses.

“Beca!”

“What?” she snaps, as the crowd starts chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” She follows the finger Jesse is pointing at the big screen looming over the stadium to see herself and Chloe on the Kiss Cam.

“Oh,” she says, glancing at Chloe, who is grinning at her. She leans in and tentatively presses her lips to Chloe’s, who leans in. Her lips taste like candy, and when they part Beca can’t hold back the stupid smile that spreads across her face.

“So,” Chloe says, smirking. “Can I have your number?”

“Definitely.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Bechloe: While still just friends, Beca goes to Chloe while having a sort of freak-out and ends up crying. She talks about how people always leave her and how she feels generally unloved. Chloe, unable to contain her feelings any longer, finally admits her feelings for Beca.

“Urgh!” Beca grabs her phone and, in lieu of screaming at the top of her lungs, presses “compose new tweet”. 

_**@BecaMitchell:**  fuck you. fuck this. FUCK EVERYTHING._

She hits “send”, stabbing at the keyboard angrily, then flings herself down onto her bed and buries her face in her pillow. Suddenly, her phone vibrates in her hand. Peeking one eye out, she peers at the screen, where  _New text from Chloe_ is flashing. Beca rolls onto her back and opens the text.

_**Chloe:**  you okay?_

_**Beca:**  no._

_**Chloe:**  wanna talk about it?_

_**Beca:**  no._

_**Chloe:**  i’m on my way over._

Beca rolls her eyes and curls up again, knowing that when it comes to Chloe, resistance is futile. About fifteen minutes later, a knock sounds at the door.

“Mmph,” Beca mutters, pulling her pillow over her head. She hears the door open, then footsteps, and then a weight sink down next to her on the bed.

“Hey,” Chloe says softly, resting a hand on Beca’s shoulder, which the brunette just shrugs off. “Someone’s cranky.”

“How could you tell?” Beca says flatly, her voice muffled from beneath the pillow. The weight on the bed shifts, and Beca feels arms encircling her from behind. She tenses. “We’re not going to talk about our feelings, are we?" Chloe snorts, and Beca feels the rush of air on the back of her neck and shivers.

"Not if you don’t want to,” Chloe assures her, and Beca allows herself to relax. She reaches over and pries Beca’s hand out from under her pillow and intertwines their fingers together, squeezing gently and humming a tune that sounds vaguely familiar to Beca, but she can’t quite place it (probably some crap from the 80s that Aubrey listens to). And it’s just such a  _Chloe_  thing to do and it makes Beca feel warm and she feels her anger slowly dissipating and if she were the kind of person who cried in movies (or watched movies at all) she’d be reaching for a tissue and—

“Beca, are you crying?”

Shit. 

“No,” Beca says, sniffing quickly and rubbing her sleeve on her cheek, surprised when it comes away damp.

“Aww, Beca,” Chloe says, reaching for the box of tissues on the nightstand. “ _Please_  tell me what’s wrong.”

Beca laughs hollowly and takes a tissue, still facing away from Chloe. “People always leave me,” she says, hiccuping, “and I feel generally unloved.”

“Who left you?” Chloe asks, passing Beca another tissue.

“Do you mean today or do you want the full list?” Beca says bitterly, an ugly sob escaping. 

“Let’s start with today.” Chloe rubs small, soothing circles on Beca’s back.

“Jesse. He wants to just be friends.” Beca takes a shaky breath, trying to steady her voice. “He said I’m too guarded for a relationship or some shit like that. Well, maybe I’m guarded because people keep fucking leaving.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” Chloe says sincerely.

“No one loves me. No one  _can_  love me, how could they?” Beca wipes at her eyes again, allowing Chloe to pull her into a hug.

“Oh, Beca,” Chloe murmurs, breathing in the fruity scent of the brunette’s shampoo. “I love you.”

Despite herself, Beca smiles. “Thanks, Chloe.”

“No, Beca, you don’t understand,” Chloe says, turning to face Beca, her expression earnest and hopeful. “I  _love_  you." 

Beca’s eyes widen. "Are you serious?”

“Dixie Chicks serious,” Chloe says. Then she leans forward and presses a short, sweet kiss to Beca’s lips.

“Oh,” Beca says, looking dazed and dumbfounded. “Could you maybe do that one more time?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. Grocery store. Last piece of ice cream. You can take it from there.:)

“Chocolate Oreo,” Beca whispers, eyes scanning the fogged-up freezer doors. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” She cranes her neck to see the top shelves, sidestepping another grocery store patron, suddenly spotting her prize. “Aha!” She reaches for the carton, bumping into someone else as she does so.

“Oh, excuse me.” Beca looks up, ice cream in hand, to see a girl with red hair and piercing blue eyes, wearing a disappointed expression. 

“Uh, sorry,” Beca says, tucking the ice cream under her arm when she sees the redhead eyeing it. 

“Was that the last one?” the girl asks, turning back to the freezer, as if another box of chocolate Oreo ice cream will materialize. 

“I think so,” Beca says, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly. 

“Darn,” the redhead says with a soft smile. “Chocolate Oreo’s my favorite.”

Beca shrugs. “Sucks for you, I guess.” The other girl raises her eyebrows, a whisper of a smirk passing over her face. There’s a moment of silence, each girl studying the other.

“You’re pretty,” the redhead says suddenly.

Beca eyes her suspiciously. “Are you just saying that so I’ll give you the ice cream?”

“No,” the girl says with a laugh. “You really are.”

“Uh, thanks,” Beca says. A beat passes. “You have nice eyes,” she adds, blushing a bit.

The girl smiles warmly. “Thanks.” She sticks her hand out toward Beca. “I’m Chloe.”

“Beca.” Beca shakes the girl’s hand, warm and soft in hers, which is cold from holding the ice cream. The two stare at each other for another long moment.

“I have an economically efficient solution to our ice cream deficiency,” Chloe says, her smile suddenly seeming seductive instead of friendly.

“Jeez, did your parents make you copy the dictionary when you got in trouble as a kid?” Beca asks, eyes widening a bit.

Chloe rolls her eyes, ignoring Beca’s commentary. “How about we eat that ice cream together?”

“Uh…” Beca looks taken aback. “That could probably be arranged.”

“Good.” Chloe loops her arm through Beca’s. “Let’s go.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. Party. Game. They're paired to eat one apple together. Blindfolded. You can take it from there.:)

“Beca!”

Beca looks up from her spot on the couch, where some stoner is trying to have a conversation with her about “what really goes on inside a dishwasher” to see Jesse waving her over.

“Uh, I have to go,” Beca says to the guy, walking out of the room. “Can we leave?” she asks Jesse.

“Hey, you owe me,” Jesse reminds her, referring to when last week he covered for her at the station when she had overslept (until four in the afternoon). “You’re my wingman.”

“But what does that mean?” Beca mutters under her breath.

“We’re gonna play a game,” Jesse says.

“What kind of game?” Beca asks suspiciously.

“You’ll see.” Jesse leads Beca into the next room, where some of the partygoers have gathered in a semblance of a circle.

“Okay,” some guy says authoritatively, clapping his hands together. “In this hat, we have an activity,” he says, pointing, “and in this one we have names. Kind of like truth or dare.”

“This sounds like a terrible idea,” Beca whispers to Jesse.

“C'mon, Bec, let loose,” Jesse says. “Beca wants to go first!” he shouts.

Beca jams her elbow into Jesse’s ribs. “No, I don’t.”

Jesse grunts. “Ow,” he stage-whispers. “Yes, she does.” He pushes Beca towards the table the hats are resting on. 

Beca glances around the room and, seeing all eyes on her, acquiesces. Tentatively, she reaches into first one hat, then the other and unfolds the scraps of paper. “Eat apple blindfolded with…” She swallows nervously. “Chloe.” She swears she hears Jesse laugh. “Um, who’s Chloe?”

“I’m Chloe.” A girl with wavy red hair and the bluest eyes Beca has ever seen steps forward.

“Um, hi,” Beca says, giving her an awkward half-wave. “Look, you don’t have to do this if you don't—”

“It’s cool,” Chloe says, winking. “It’ll be fun.” Someone pulls two bandannas out of nowhere (this is hands-down the strangest party Beca’s  _ever_  been to) and someone else brings in an apple from the kitchen as the bandanna is tied over Beca’s eyes. She feels Chloe (or, at least, she hopes it’s Chloe) put her hands on her shoulders and feels the cool, smooth skin of the apple press gently against her mouth. Feeling self-conscious, Beca takes a small bite of the apple, hearing Chloe do the same. She’s barely swallowed the bite before teeth sink gently into her lower lip. Beca pulls back, startled.

“Uh, Chloe?” she says quietly, “that’s not the apple.”

“I know,” Chloe whispers in her ear, her breath hot against Beca’s cheek. Beca shivers. Chloe playfully flicks the tip of her tongue along Beca’s bottom lip, apple all but forgotten, and Beca puts her hands on Chloe’s hips to steady herself, closing her eyes despite the blindfold.

Someone awkwardly clears their throat. “Um, I think that’s sufficient.” Suddenly, Beca remembers the room full of people and pulls of the blindfold, cheeks burning. But Chloe’s looking at her with an impossibly sexy half-smirk on her face.

“Um, excuse us,” Beca says, grabbing Chloe by the hand and leading her towards the the bathroom, leaving the stunned crowd in their wake.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe and little kids being girlfriends and then growing up and still being together? Also can you add some mini Beca and mini Chloe fluff?

“Chloe?” Beca walks into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind her, and flings her bag in the general direction of the couch (it misses by about four feet, but Beca’s too lazy to care). “Chloe?“ she calls out again, shuffling down the hall to her and Chloe’s shared bedroom.

"In here,” a muffled voice says. It takes Beca a moment to realize it’s coming from the walk-in closet (Chloe had insisted that it was a necessary amenity when they rented the apartment, although it serves as a black hole for all of their old clothes and junk). 

“What are you—whoa.” Beca stops short in the doorway of the closet. Chloe’s sitting in the middle with some book in her lap, surrounded by clothes and shoes and, well,  _stuff_. “It looks like a tornado blew through here.“

Chloe beams up at her in response. “Look what I found!” She taps her finger against the book, which Beca can now see is a photo album. Beca gingerly steps over the clothes, shoes, and boxes, hissing out a “Fuck!“ when she steps on a stray hanger, and clears out a spot on the floor to sit next to her girlfriend.

"Wow,” Beca says softly, turning the pages. There were photos of their families on picnics, beach trips, and vacations, and, of course, a million of Beca and Chloe. Chloe’s and Beca’s respective mothers had met in college and became inseparable, so it only made sense that Beca and Chloe would be, too (although  _this_  level of intimacy was not explicitly predicted).

“I’m so small,” Beca breathes, running her fingers over a photo of her and Chloe, arms wrapped around each other, dripping ice cream cones in hand.

“Eh, you’re still pretty small,” Chloe says teasingly, flipping to the next page.

“Ouch, Beale,” Beca says, playfully pressing her hand over her heart. “I have to play Frogger to get over your mess to be with you and this is how you repay me?”

Chloe giggles and whacks Beca on the arm, rolling her eyes when the other girl mutters something about abuse. “Ooh!” Chloe squeals, pointing to another picture. “Look at us,” she gushes.

Beca studies the photo. She and Chloe, ages nine and six, are sitting on a pair of swings at the playground at the elementary school they attended, holding hands. Chloe is smiling brightly at the camera, her red hair glowing even redder in the sunlight. Beca is wearing a reluctant half-smirk (she never was—and still isn't—very fond of having her picture taken), and hand-crafted chain of clovers circling her wrist.

“Do you remember that day?” Chloe asks, smiling fondly.

**—–**

_“Beca! Let’s go on the monkey bars!” Chloe shouts gleefully, pulling Beca by the hand behind her. It’s a Saturday; their mothers, at their wit’s end with the two tearing up the house, agreed to take the girls to the playground._

_Chloe reaches over her head and jumps, grabbing the bars and swinging her legs crazily. “C'mon, Beca!”_

_Beca eyes the bars above her head warily. “I don’t want to.”_

_Chloe drops to the ground. “Why not?”_

_“I can’t reach,” Beca pouts, crossing her arms. “I want to do something else.”_

_“I’ll help you,” Chloe offers and, before Beca can run away, grabs her around the middle and hoists her all of four inches into the air._

_“No! Put me down,” Beca protests, grasping at Chloe’s shoulders desperately to keep from keeling over. Chloe obliges, releasing the other girl, and Beca sticks out her bottom lip before turning and walking away._

_“Where are you going?” Chloe asks, chasing after her._

_“I don’t want to play anymore,” Beca says, crossing her arms over her chest._

_Chloe’s face falls. “I’m sorry,” she says, touching Beca’s arm. Beca stays quiet, sitting on a bench and pulling her knees to her chest. Chloe lingers for a moment before heading for the field behind the_ _playground (which is substantially more weeds than grass). She comes back about ten minutes later._

_“Can I see your hand?” she asks, motioning to Beca’s left arm. Hesitantly, Beca extends her arm, eyeing Chloe as she slides a bracelet made of a chain of clovers around her wrist. “I’m sorry,” she says again, and Beca can’t help but smile._

_“It’s okay,” she says, and Chloe engulfs her in a hug._

_“Last one to the swings is a rotten egg!” Chloe shouts, taking off, laughing as Beca chases after her._

**—————**

“Yeah, I remember that,” Beca says, grinning at her girlfriend. “You were a bitch then, too.”

“At least I’m not an elf,” Chloe says, trying to keep her expression serious but failing miserably, dissolving into giggles when Beca’s mouth drops open. 

“You’re gonna pay for that,” Beca says, tackling Chloe to the ground, ticking her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. New roomies. Chloe takes home different guys every night. Beca does something to stop it. You can take it from there.:)

The first time, it’s excusable.

This is college, and smart girls who work as hard as Chloe does are entitled to some fun every once in awhile. Beca’s a little surprised when the door slams open as she’s engrossed in a mix, but she just nods to Chloe and takes her laptop to the common room.

* * *

 

The second guy’s name is Tom. Beca knows this despite the fact that she had her headphones on, down the hall, in the lounge. In fact, she’s pretty sure the whole dorm building and perhaps all of Barden is now informed of how… skilled Tom is.

* * *

 

Next, Chloe brings home  _two_  guys.

Beca goes to the library for that one.

* * *

 

When Beca complains of these countless disturbances to Jesse, he snorts and jokingly suggests Beca make a rotation chart.

Never being one to pass up an opportunity to be obnoxious, Beca goes back to her room and gets to work.

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Beca looks up to see Chloe walk into the room and toss her bag onto her bed. “Hi,“ Beca replies, moving her headphones from over her ears to around her neck.

"Would you mind occupying yourself for a little while tonight?” Chloe asks, flashing Beca a smile and batting her eyes—actually  _batting her eyes._

“Uh, yeah,” Beca says, pulling out a piece of paper conspicuously and smiling to herself. “It’s Thursday, right? That means…" she scans the sheet, “that it’s Greg tonight. He isn’t usually here long.“

Chloe stares at her. “Excuse me?”

Beca shrugs nonchalantly. “I made a chart. For planning purposes.“ She holds the paper out to Chloe, who takes it, looking equal parts confused and pissed.

Chloe’s mouth falls open slightly as she looks at the carefully-drawn chart (Beca’s actually quite proud of it). She peers at Beca, dumbfounded. “Hold on, why is  _your_  name on here?”

Beca stifles laughter. “I figured it would work better for both of our schedules.“

There’s a long moment of silence before Chloe types something into her phone, then tosses it on the desk. She turns to Beca with predatorily seductive hooded eyes. “You’re on.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe-carnival date?

“Noooooo,” Beca whines as Chloe drags—literally drags—her by the hand towards the ferris wheel. Her heels scuff along the pavement as Beca tries to slow the brisk pace Chloe has attempted to set.

“Can you behave like an adult, please?” Chloe half-shouts, exasperated. Beca had been complaining for the last forty-five minutes out of the hour they’d been at the carnival. And that first fifteen peaceful minutes had been when Beca’s mouth was too preoccupied with fried dough to be obnoxious.

“No,” Beca says, leaning her weight back, pulling against Chloe’s hand. Suddenly, Chloe lets go; Beca stumbles back frantically, righting herself just before she hits the ground. She hides a smile behind her hand as Beca glares at her. “That was rude.“

Chloe snorts. “Please, you are the epitome of rude,” she says.

“I think that also qualifies as rude,” Beca points out. “I’m hungry,“ she adds as an afterthought.

Chloe runs a hand down her face. “You just ate!”

“Yeah, like four hours ago!” Beca argues.

“Try less than an hour,” Chloe says. She sighs heavily. “How about we go on the ferris wheel and then we can get more food?“

Beca blanches. “Can we go on a different ride?”

“But Beca, it’s my favorite ride,” Chloe finds herself whining. “Why?“ 

"I just don’t want to go on it,” Beca says, suddenly finding her fingernails very interesting.

Chloe raises an eyebrow quizzically. “What if I buy you all of the cotton candy you want after?“ Beca shifts from foot to foot, looking mightily uncomfortable and… apprehensive. “Oh my God! Are you  _scared_?” Chloe shouts, and Beca lunges at her and clamps a hand over her mouth.

“Will you shut up?” she hisses, looking around quickly to see if anyone overheard. She lowers her hand from Chloe’s mouth tentatively, as if the other girl will announce all of her other childish fears aloud (spiders, being alone at night, and Edgar Allen Poe stories). 

“You  _are_ ,” Chloe says, amazed and amused at this discovery. 

Beca bites her lip worriedly. Her cheeks are tinged a light shade of pink and she wears a slightly anxious expression. It makes her look young. Vulnerable. “You can’t laugh at me,“ she says.

Chloe shrugs. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re so close to the ground, then.” It’s a low blow, but when Beca crosses her arm and sticks out her bottom lip, she can’t help but smile.

“Stop making fun of me,” Beca demands, with all of the intimidation of a puppy.

“I’m sorry!” Chloe says, pulling Beca close. “You’re just so cute when you pout.“

"I’m not cute,” Beca says immediately (akin to the way people automatically say “bless you" when someone sneezes). “I know how you can make it up to me,“ she says, leaning in towards her girlfriend.

"Really? How?” Chloe asks playfully, eyes fluttering shut as Beca nears closer.

Right before their lips are about to touch, Beca stops. “Cotton candy,“ she whispers, then grabs Chloe’s hand and takes off.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca/Chloe: coffee house AU where they meet while trying to stay dry from the pouring rain outside

_Ding._

The bell over the door rings as Chloe hurriedly pushes it open and ducks inside, water running off the hood of her windbreaker. She’d been walking home from the gym when the light rain had suddenly turned into a torrential downpour. She peers out the window; the rain is coming down so hard it’s splashing against the sidewalk. Looking around, Chloe sees that she has taken cover an a little coffee shop (she hadn’t had time to look where she was going—she just grabbed the first door she found). It’s quaint, with marred wooden tables and an overstuffed couch against one wall, and nearly empty. The girl behind the counter is staring at her, and she figures she won’t be welcome much longer if she doesn’t order something.

“Can I have an iced skinny caramel macchiato please?” Chloe asks after studying the menu for a moment. “And hold the whipped cream.“

"Do you want the fat-free ice as well?” the girl, whose name tag reads Kimmy Jin, says flatly, and Chloe laughs nervously, unable to tell if she’s being serious or not. “$3.50,” Kimmy Jin says, and Chloe pulls a rumpled five dollar bill out of her back pocket. As the girl—Kimmy Jin—goes to make Chloe’s drink, the door bangs open and a very wet, very displeased-looking girl stumbles in with a “Fuck!“ The other two people in the shop peer at her curiously, and the girl glares back. Her wet, brown hair is plastered to her face and the makeup around her eyes is smudged. The t-shirt and jeans she is wearing are soaked through, her sneakers squeaking loudly as she throws herself down on a chair at a table near the window, and she stares outside angrily.

Kimmy Jin comes back with her drink and Chloe asks nervously, “And can I get a black coffee, too?” She smiles sweetly and Kimmy Jin lets out a long, annoyed breath before pouring a steaming cup of coffee into a take-out mug and slamming it down on the counter. After Chloe pays, Kimmy Jin walks away, muttering something about “white girls" and “coffee".

Armed with her beverages, Chloe approaches the shivering, wet girl. “Hi,“ she says, putting the hot coffee in front of the girl and dropping into the chair across from her, placing her gym bag on the floor. “You look like you could use some liquid warmth.

The girl eyes her warily before sipping the coffee tentatively. “Thanks,” is all she says in reply. Her teeth are chattering and there’s a small puddle forming on the floor beneath her chair. Then she frowns. “Can you read minds?“

"Wha—no?” Chloe says confusedly, taken aback.

“Then how did you know I take my coffee black?” She’s still looking at Chloe a bit suspiciously. 

“I just guessed.” Chloe watches as the girl extracts a few soaked dollar bills from her pocket, but Chloe shakes her head. “Nope, it’s on me.“

"Oh.” The girl wraps her arms around herself. “Thanks.“ A beat of silence passes as they both watch the rain through the window.

"I’m Chloe,” Chloe says.

“Beca.” Beca shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

Suddenly, Chloe has an idea. “Okay, this is a weird offer, but do you want to borrow my extra gym clothes?“ She points to the duffel bag by her feet. “They’re clean. I even have a towel.”

Beca looks as though she’s about to say no, then decides against it. “Are you sure?“ When Chloe nods, Beca breathes out, “Thank you.” She accepts the bag and heads into the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later in Chloe’s Barden t-shirt and capri leggings. She’s tied her damp hair up in a messy ponytail and wiped the mascara off from under her eyes. Her expression is less venomous and Chloe is struck by how young and pretty she looks.

“Thanks,” Beca says again, handing the bag back to Chloe. “I go to Barden, too, so if you tell me where you live I’ll give you your clothes back after I wash them.“ 

Something clicks inside Chloe’s head. “Wait, are you the Beca that works at WBUJ?”

“Music for the independent mind,” Beca says, rolling her eyes. “That’s me.“

"I  _love_  your stuff,” Chloe squeals excitedly. “Your mixes are amazing!“

Beca blushes and ducks her head bashfully. “Thanks.”

“Here, I’ll give you my number and we can hang out sometime and talk music,” Chloe says excitedly, bouncing in her chair a bit.

“Really?” Beca asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, why not?” Chloe asks a little confusedly.

“You’re really pretty,” Beca blurts, then flushes redder. “Did I just say that out loud?“

Chloe laughs. “You’re adorable. Now give me your phone.” Reluctantly, Beca hands over her iPhone and Chloe taps in her number and texts herself so she’ll have Beca’s number, too. Glancing outside, she sees that it’s stopped raining. She stands and holds her hand out to Beca, who frowns but complies. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.“


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca tries to be romantic for Chloe + domestic Bechloe

“Oof.”

Chloe stumbles into her and Beca’s apartment, weighted down by her purse and a duffel bag, which gets promptly deposited onto the floor. She’d spent a long weekend visiting Aubrey, who is spending the summer in South Carolina for an internship. She kicks off her shoes, pausing a moment. She notices the smell of something baking, and from the kitchen, she hears water running, and music playing. Music that sounds suspiciously like NSYNC, something Beca only listens to when no one else is around (but she’s not nearly as sneaky as she thinks she is). Intending to sneak up on Beca, she tiptoes down the hall, rounding the corner to see Beca, in an oversized t-shirt and shorts washing dishes as she sings along, rocking her hips from side to side and even doing a little headbanging—well, as much headbanging as one can do while washing dishes. Stealthiness forgotten, Chloe dissolves into a fit of laughter.

Beca whirls around, eyes wide, soap suds stuck to her hands floating to the floor. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun, a few untamed tendrils curling around her face, and she’s not wearing any makeup. There’s a streak of flour across her forehead where she must have tried to wipe the hair away from her face.

Chloe laughs harder at Beca’s deer-in-headlights expression as Beca dries her hands on a towel and switches off the music. Her face is an almost alarming shade of red and she crosses her arms. “I’m… sorry…” Chloe gasps out, attempting to quell her laughter with valiant effort.

“You’re not supposed to be home for another three hours,” Beca says accusingly, twisting the hem of her shirt—actually, it’s one of Chloe’s shirts—anxiously.

“I left a little early and there was no traffic,” Chloe explains, biting the inside of her cheek to keep a smile off her face. The two stare at each other for a long moment before Chloe loses her self-control and a few giggles slip out.

“Stop laughing at me,” Beca whines. The  _ding_  of the oven timer goes off suddenly, and Beca casts one more withering glance at Chloe (she tries, anyway, but Chloe finds it endearing) before pulling on a pair of oven mitts. 

“What are you making?” Chloe asks, peering around Beca’s shoulders as she removes three pans from the oven and sets them on a cooling rack.

“Well, I  _was_  making you a red velvet cake as a welcome-home present, but I think I’m going to give it to Fat Amy now,” Beca says. Her tone is annoyed, but when Chloe encircles her arms around her waist from behind, Beca leans back into the embrace. She cranes her neck to look up at Chloe. “I hate you.”

Chloe leans down and captures Beca’s lips in a quick but soft kiss. “I hate you too, that’s so weird.”

A smile twists Beca’s lips. “I missed you.” She blinks up at Chloe, her lashes enviably long. It’s the sweet, reserved Beca only Chloe is privy to. 

“I missed you too,” Chloe whispers into Beca’s hair. After a few moments, Beca turns to face Chloe.

“I got food,” she says, jabbing her thumb to the table, where several Chinese takeout boxes are sitting. “The cake was enough of an endeavor, so I just got takeout.”

“My little overachiever,” Chloe chuckles. “Hold on, you’ve got flour on your face.” She licks her thumb and goes to wipe Beca’s forehead.

“Get away from me!” Beca twists away from Chloe and claps a hand over her forehead. “Jeez, keep your bodily fluids to yourself." 

Chloe smirks. "That’s not what you said the night before I left.”

Beca’s face flushes. “Shut up and eat, Beale.”

“Always the romancer,” Chloe drawls, and Beca swats at her.

“I have a surprise for you,” Beca says, grabbing the containers and gesturing for Chloe to follow. She leads her into the living room, and Chloe’s mouth drops open.

“Oh my god.” Sitting in the middle of the floor is an enormous blanket-fort. Beca had dragged kitchen chairs and used the couch as the frame, and draped blankets as canopies, weighted down by books. The entire floor of the fort is pillows. “Beca, this is perfect!”

“I figured you’d like it,” Beca says, looking pleased with herself. She sets the food down on the coffee table, which is stationed next to the entrance of the fort. Chloe pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of the masterpiece.

“Don’t you dare tweet that,” Beca warns, eyeing the phone warily.

“Too late!” Chloe gives Beca a sweet smile before sliding into the fort.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Beca huffs before settling in next to her. There’s just enough room for the two of them to fit, and Chloe promptly wraps her arms around Beca, pulling her in close. Beca nuzzles in to Chloe’s neck, making a sound Chloe can only describe as  _content_  as Chloe lazily runs her hand up and down Beca’s back.

“I love you,” Beca murmurs sleepily, her breath hot against Chloe’s skin.

“I love you too,” Chloe whispers back.

They fall asleep like that, food forgotten to be eaten the next morning for breakfast.

(Chloe’s tweet garners thirteen favorites and six retweets. She eats alone.)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a Bechloe prompt where Beca finally works up the courage to say hi to a very popular Chloe?

“Beca?”

A hand waves in front of Beca’s face, fingers snapping. She jumps, blinking a few times, before glaring at the owner of the hand. "What, Jesse?“

"You’re staring again.” Jesse points to a table across the library, where a blond girl is sitting hunched over a textbook, papers fanned out in front of her.

“I was not,” Beca says defensively, flushing lightly. She refocuses her gaze on her notebook. “I was just thinking.“

Jesse snorts. “Yeah, thinking about  _Chloe_.”

Beca looks up sharply. “Not so loud!“ She sneaks another glance at Chloe, but she’s still reading intently.

"Please, I know you want to hit that,” Jesse says, leaning back in his chair languidly. He smirks as Beca’s face reddens further. “I don’t know why, when you could tap this, but—ow!“ He stops abruptly when Beca not-so-lightly punches him in the shoulder.

"Will you shut up?” Beca hisses as the librarian casts the pair a less-than-friendly look.

“Only when we can have a conversation in which Chloe is brought up less than seven times,” Jesse grumbles, rubbing dramatically at his shoulder. “You’d be surprised how little I care about how blue her eyes are, or how hot her ass looks in that cheerleading skirt.“

"I never said that!” Beca’s eyes widen, her face so red Jesse’s surprised steam isn’t coming out from her ears.

“You didn’t have to. I sat next to you at the pep rally, I saw where you were looking,” Jesse says, ignoring the dirty look Beca gives him. “Why don’t you just go talk to her?“

Beca shakes her head. “She’s head cheerleader and I’m a sound tech for the school musical. What can I possibly say to her?" 

"I don’t know,” Jesse drawls, shrugging. “You can try “hi". She’s a cheerleader, not the Godfather.“ Beca just stares at him blankly. “Come on, Beca, how can you not get that one? It’s a classic!”

“Fine!” Beca throws her hands up in surrender. “Just shut up.“ She takes a deep breath and walks across the library, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, her heart hammering and palms sweating, until she nearly bumps into Chloe’s table.

Chloe looks up, and for a moment, Beca just stares at her before remembering what she was doing. “Um, hey. Er, hi,” she stammers, pulling nervously on the strap of her backpack.

“Hey, Beca,” Chloe says with an easy smile.

“You know my name?” Beca blurts.

Chloe chuckles. “Of course I do. We have four classes together.“

 _Duh_. “Oh, right,” Beca mutters, feeling dumb.

“What’s up?” Chloe asks, looking expectant.

“Uh, nothing?” It comes out sounding like a question, and Beca curses herself for being so awkward.

Chloe looks confused. “You came over to talk to me.“

"Oh, right—um, just… saying hi,” Beca says, her voice sounding shaky.  _Get your shit together, Mitchell_.

“Oh. Well, hi,” Chloe says as the bell rings, signaling the end of the period. “See you later!“ She gives a little wave. Beca stares at her retreating form until she’s gone from sight. 

When Beca turns around, she sees Jesse doing what she can only describe as a touchdown dance. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe deal with seeing their celebrity dopplegangers (Anna Kendrick & Brittany Snow) in person at a restaurant while on a date.

Sometimes, being the only child of a moderately wealthy man who also feels guilty for walking out on his daughter has its perks. Like brand-new high-tech DJ equipment for Christmas. Or a car to use on-campus. Or dinner at a swanky Los Angeles restaurant.

“Your dad got us reservations  _here_?” Chloe says in disbelief as the maitre d leads the pair to a table.

Beca shrugs. “Gotta use up that guilt complex thing while I still can, you know?“ She slides into the chair that the man pulls out for her, and Chloe does the same. As the man walks away, the waiter slides in immediately after.

"Can I start you with drinks?” he asks, smiling pleasantly (albeit a bit forced).

“A bottle of wine, please,” Beca says.

He looks at her skeptically. “I’ll need to see your ID.“

"Oh, it’s for her,” Beca says, gesturing at Chloe. “Trust me, she doesn’t need my help—ow!“ Chloe jabs the heel of her shoe into Beca’s shin.

"Water’s fine,” Chloe says, smiling sweetly. The waiter nods and hurries away. “Do you have to be such an ass?“ she asks Beca, looking somewhat annoyed.

"Sorry,  _Mom,_ ” Beca says teasingly. “Beca, don’t say “I know" when someone compliments you. Beca, don’t tell little kids that raisins are dried bugs. Beca, don’t pretend to fall asleep when Aubrey talks,“ she says in a high-pitched, singsongy voice.

Chloe hides a smile behind her hand. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Buy me a drink after we get out of here,” Beca says. “I want to be properly hungover for our flight back tomorrow.“

Chloe rolls her eyes. “So, what do you think of LA?”

Beca shrugs again. After she had told her dad she wanted to stay at Barden, he had been so happy he offered to send her and Chloe for a week to LA, on him. “I love it, but it’s much better with you.“ Beca smiles shyly, flushing a little when Chloe lets out a long “Awwww." Suddenly, Chloe stops laughing, her mouth dropping open.

"What?” Beca twists in her chair to follow Chloe’s gaze. “Oh.“ Standing by the doors of the restaurant are two women (probably famous, by the way everyone is staring at them) who could be Beca’s and Chloe’s long-lost (slightly older) twins.

"This is like that TV show,” Chloe hisses, leaning forward like she’s giving Beca covert information. “We’re clones, made by a secret scientific government group!“

"Or we just look alike,” Beca says slowly, raising an eyebrow. “On average, there are about seven people in the world who look like you.“

"Well, at least I have the best-looking Beca,” Chloe says, winking at Beca.

“I don’t know,” Beca says, craning her neck to look at the two women as they’re led away. “Blond Chloe’s kinda hot.“

Chloe kicks her so hard under the table that she knocks over her water glass.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca feels insecure about their relationship but Chloe reassures Beca just how much she loves her.

Beca can’t sleep.

 

She rolls over and looks at the digital clock on the nightstand for the umpteenth time.  _1:17_. Beca frowns. It felt like much longer than two minutes since she last checked. She flips onto her back and stares at the ceiling, trying to quiet her mind. She’s tried everything: listening to her iPod, getting a glass of water, taking a Benadryl. Hell, she’s even tried counting sheep (cool, DJ/emcee sheep with expensive sunglasses, but sheep nonetheless). Her brain just won’t slow down.

Chloe, however, has remained slumbering soundly next to her. She’d never admit it, but Beca could really use a Chloe Hug™ right now. Beca watches her sleep peacefully for a few moments, her wavy hair splayed out on her pillow. She looks angelic, like a dream itself. Sometimes, like right now, looking at just how fucking  _perfect_  Chloe is, Beca can’t believe that she’s actually hers.  _Fuck it_ , Beca thinks,  _I’ll go watch TV_. She tries to slide out of bed without disturbing Chloe, but she stirs nonetheless.

“Bec?” she murmurs sleepily, blinking blearily up at Beca. “Where’re you going?“

"I can’t sleep,” Beca says. “Go back to sleep.“

"C’mere.” Chloe opens her arms, and Beca gratefully sinks into them. Chloe rests her chin on Beca’s shoulder, her steady breathing warm on the smaller girl’s neck. They lie together like that for a few minutes.

“What’s keeping you up?” Chloe asks, properly awake now.

“Nothing,” Beca says evasively. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry to wake you up.“

"It’s not stupid,” Chloe says quietly, propping herself up on her elbow. Beca frowns at the loss of contact.

“You don’t even know what it is.” Beca slides closer, turning to face her girlfriend.

“Stop stalling,” Chloe says, brushing a few stray hairs off of Beca’s forehead.

Beca pauses, considering her words. “Why me?“

Chloe frowns. “Why you what?”

“Why me? Like, why not some other girl? One who isn’t obnoxious and insecure and abrasive?” Beca asks, not looking directly into Chloe’s eyes but instead fixating on the wall behind her head.

Chloe is quiet for a moment, brow furrowed. Then—

“ _Much as you blame yourself_  
 _you can’t be blamed for the way that you feel_  
 _Had no example of a love_  
 _that was even remotely real_.“ 

She’s singing. Fucking  _singing_. 

“ _How can you understand something that you’ve never had?_  
 _Oh, baby, if you let me_  
 _I can help you out with all of that_." 

"Okay, enough, Chlo,” Beca says, batting lightly at the other girl’s shoulder. “Point taken.“

But Chloe doesn’t stop; she grows louder.

“ _Girl let me love you_  
 _and I will love you_  
 _until you learn to love yourself_." 

"Shut up!” Beca says, but she can’t keep the smile off of her face, especially as Chloe straddles her, pinning her shoulders and singing directly in her face.

“ _Girl let me love you_  
 _I know your trouble_  
 _don’t be afraid_  
 _Girl let me help_.“ 

Resistance is futile; Beca gives a few more half-hearted protests as she waits for Chloe to finish her serenade.

"Are you done?” Beca asks, raising an eyebrow.

Chloe grins. “For now.“ She pecks Beca on the lips before settling in next to her, wrapping her arms around the other girl’s small frame.

"I love you,” Beca says softly.

“Love you more,” Chloe says, nuzzling into Beca’s neck as the pair drifts blissfully and easily off to sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca tries to surprise Chloe but fails miserably but Chloe is just happy that Beca tried

_Crash._

“Fuck!”

Chloe jolts awake. She blinks a few times, shaking off the fog of sleep, and makes her way hurriedly down the hall and stops in the kitchen. There she sees Beca, one hand pressed over her mouth, eyes wide. It looks as though a light snowstorm blew its way though the kitchen; the floor is dusted with a white powder mixed with what looks like broken glass.

“Beca, are you okay?” Chloe asks, and Beca looks up as though she has just noticed her presence. “What the hell is going on?“

"I’m fine,” Beca says, looking a bit sheepish. “But our mixing bowl is not.“

Chloe steps back into the hall and grabs a pair of shoes from the closet and tosses them to Beca. “I don’t want you to step on any glass.” She steps into a pair of flip-flops and enters the kitchen, armed with a broom and dustpan.

“Thanks,” Beca says, slipping into the shoes and brushing white powder from her pajama pants.

“What happened?” Chloe begins systematically sweeping the powder and glass shards into a pile.

“Um,” Beca says, “extreme pancake making?“

Chloe snorts. “You should come with a warning label.”

“No kidding.” Beca wets a paper towel and wipes the pancake mix off of the counter. “Next time I try to make you breakfast in bed I’ll just buy it.“

Chloe stops sweeping and looks at Beca. “You were going to bring me breakfast in bed?”

“That was the plan,” Beca says, smiling shyly. 

“That is so cute.” Chloe leans the broom against the counter and hugs Beca from behind. “Tell you what,“ she whispers into the smaller girl’s ear. “We’ll go out and get breakfast and then get in bed. How does that sound?”

Beca shivers slightly. “That could work.“


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca meets Chloe's family.

“Aaaaand… we’re here,” Chloe says as she pulls into the driveway of her family’s mid-sized, white two-story. 

“Yay,” Beca says flatly, tugging on the cap sleeves of the blousy shirt Chloe had bought her and insisted she wear.

“Stop pulling on that, you’ll wrinkle it,” Chloe says as she opens her door and slides out of the car, Beca following suit.

“I hate this shirt,” Beca whines, holding her arms out awkwardly, as if trying to maintain as little shirt-to-skin contact possible.

“It looks nice,” Chloe says, dropping her keys into her purse.

“It’s  _yellow_ ,” Beca says disdainfully.

“It brings out your sunny personality,” Chloe deadpans. “Because for some reason people don’t always see it.“

Beca puts her hands on her hips. “For your information, my mother calls me her Ray of Sunshine. So fuck you.”

“How could anyone miss that?” Chloe rolls her eyes and grabs Beca’s hand, towing her up to and through the front door.

Chloe is immediately engulfed by her parents. Even though she’s never met them before, Beca could have picked them out of a crowd of people; they share Chloe’s trademark red hair and bright blue eyes.

When she finally detaches from her parents, Chloe says, “Mom, Dad, this is Beca. Beca, this is my dad, Jon, and my mom, Kate.“

"Hello,” Beca says, giving an awkward little wave.

Kate steps forward, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice to meet you, sweetheart.“

"You too—whoa!” Kate pulls Beca suddenly into a tight embrace, and Chloe hides a smile behind her hand as a look of utter surprise (and maybe a hint of fear) crosses Beca’s face. After a few long seconds, Kate releases her, and Jon saunters over to greet her. It’s almost comical the way Beca shrinks away, but perhaps even more entertaining is the look of relief on her face when Jon offers his hand. Beca shakes it gratefully before retreating to Chloe’s side, looking illogically unnerved that Chloe’s parents are… well, exactly like Chloe.

Suddenly, there is the sound of footsteps clunking down the wooden stairs. A teenage boy appears, whom Beca knows from stories is Chloe’s 19-year-old brother Adam, but—"That’s your brother?“ Beca asks incredulously, eyeing Adam’s brown hair and green eyes suspiciously.

"No, I just work here,” Adam says, before putting Chloe in a headlock (okay, so he probably  _is_  her brother).

“Get off me!” Chloe yelps, stomping on his foot until he eases his grip. She gives Adam the evil eye, smoothing her hair. “Beca, this is my parents’ biggest regret, Adam.“

"Hey!” Adam protests, looking offended. 

Jon shrugs. “You  _are_  kind of expensive.“

"Alien implantation. What can you do?” Kate says, winking.

“Wow, okay, love you guys too,” Adam says. He then looks Beca up and down. “How did a chupacabra like Chloe get a hot chick like you?“

Beca looks momentarily stunned, then confused. “Chupacabra?”

“Adam watches too much TLC,” Jon supplies, then points a finger at Adam. “Only things that are confirmed as being real can be used as insults.“

"Let me try again,” Adam says earnestly. He turns back to Beca. “I know you’re dating a whale, but we could humpback at my place.“ He throws in a lascivious wink for good measure.

"Adam!” Chloe screeches, looking horrified.

Beca raises her eyebrows and leans in towards Adam. “The zoo called. The baboons want their butts back, so you’ll have to find a new face.“

Chloe, Kate, and Jon burst out laughing as Adam looks as though he’s bitten into something sour. “I like this one!” Jon proclaims, clapping Beca on the shoulder. “You hold onto her,“ he says to Chloe, who salutes.

"Yes, sir,” she says, squeezing Beca’s hand.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it is one thing the Bellas can count on, it is that if they can't convince Beca of something, Chloe definitely can.

_Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt._

“What the—?” Chloe blinks awake, reaching blindly on the nightstand for her vibrating phone. “What?“ she barks into the receiver, propping herself up on her elbow and running a hand through her hair.

"Heyyy, Chloe, it’s Amy,” comes the lazy reply.

“Amy, it’s"—Chloe glances at the time on her phone screen—"two in the morning. What is it?”

“Oh, sorry,” Amy says, not sounding the least bit sorry. “It’s four in the afternoon in Australia.“

"Well, in case you haven’t noticed,  _Amy_ , we are both. In. Georgia,” Chloe says, not even trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“Right, sorry,” Amy replies, having the decency to sound at least a bit apologetic. “Anyway, while you’re up"—Chloe resists the urge to hurl the phone across the room—"I have to talk to you. It’s about Beca.“

 _Beca_. Chloe sits up. “What is it?”

**xxx**

When Chloe arrives at the Bellas rehearsal space, an argument has already started. Fat Amy, Beca, Stacie are in the midst of a heated discussion, whilst the other Bellas look on, seeming already bored by the whole charade.

“C’mon, Beca, where’s your team spirit?” Stacie is saying, as Amy nods emphatically in agreement.

“Yeah, you should borrow my deodorant. It smells like team spirit!” Amy chimes in.

Beca presses her fingertips to her temples. “ _Teen_  spirit, Amy.”

Chloe approaches the group, clearing her throat. Everyone turns in her direction. “Um, hi,“ Chloe says, giving a little wave.

"Chloe!” Stacie says, motioning her closer. “We’re so glad you’re here.“

Beca’s eyes widen. “You called Chloe?” she hisses not-so-discreetly to Amy and Stacie.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Beca,” Stacie says, her expression serious. “Like this one time I was so desperate I—"

“Stacie!” Beca half-shouts. “Please, I’m still nauseous from your last story.“ Stacie gives a nonchalant shrug. “Look, Chloe, I’m sorry they wasted your time—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chloe says. “Let’s chat.“ She grabs one of Beca’s hands. The smaller girl’s eyes flick between Chloe’s hand to her eyes for a moment before sighing defeatedly.

"Fine.” Chloe leads Beca outside, where the two find an empty bench. It’s a quiet Friday afternoon on campus, with most classes already out for the weekend.

“They shouldn’t have called you,” Beca grumbles, arms crossed over her chest. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Beca,” Chloe says, laughing lightly.

“I see you all the time,” Beca says, still looking irritated.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “It’s so nice the way you always make me feel welcome.“

Beca looks a bit sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Beca, you know the Bellas bikini car wash is a tradition—”

“I thought we weren’t going to be dictated by  _tradition_ ,” Beca grumbles, making air quotes with her fingers.

Chloe ignores Beca’s interruption. “And that everybody else is going to be wearing the same bikini—"

“But it’s  _pink_!” Beca bursts out. “First of all, I’m not wearing a fucking bikini so everybody can stare at me,“ she says forcefully, “but if I did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be pink.”

Chloe squints. “Are you self-conscious?“

"No,” Beca says defensively, then pauses. “Maybe… I don’t know. Yes?“ Her gaze falls to her lap.

"Oh, Beca, you’re beautiful,” Chloe says sincerely, and Beca gives her a half-smile. “And you wear such low-cut shirts, you’re halfway there.“

Beca snorts. “Yeah, about that. My eyes are up here, Beale.” She taps between her eyes twice.

Chloe rolls her eyes, flushing lightly. She leans in towards Beca, whispering, “If you wear it, I’ll help you take it off afterwards.“

* * *

 

"Well?” Stacie prompts expectantly when the two walk back inside.

“Fine,” Beca mutters, and Amy cheers, high-fiving Chloe.

“Ha! I  _told_  you so,” Cynthia Rose says to an irritated-looking Jessica, who reluctantly hands over a twenty-dollar bill.

“Here,” Chloe says, picking up a shopping bag from a chair and handing it to Beca. “I’ll help you try it on.“


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Chloe serenades Beca with the song man I think I love her from stereo skyline?

“Okay, well if it’s easier to sleep with a great white shark than Captain America—”

“I could sleep with both of them. At the same time,” Stacie cuts in, pointing a French fry in Beca’s direction.

 

Beca shakes her head, trying to clear the unpleasant image from her mind. “Anyway, which would be worse: telling your parents that you’ve killed someone, or telling them that you’re pregnant.“

Cynthia Rose snorts. “Killed someone. My parents wouldn’t believe that I’m pregnant.” (Beca’s pretty sure she hears Lilly mutter “I’ll help you hide the body.“)

Someone slides into the restaurant booth next to Beca, landing half in her lap. She looks up to see a somewhat-intoxicated Chloe smiling down at her. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Beca says, gingerly moving Chloe’s hand from where it has fallen on her lap to a more family-friendly position on her knee.

“I’m gonna sing you a song,” Chloe says, planting a kiss on the side of Beca’s neck.

Beca looks at her girlfriend wearily. “Please don’t sing me a song.“

"I’m singing you a song.” Chloe rights herself and saunters away, tossing a wink over her shoulder.

“I knew karaoke night was a bad idea,” Beca grumbles as Amy laughs loudly at her misfortune, complete with banging her fist on the table. Stacie gropes at herself lasciviously (in what must be her interpretation of what Beca and Chloe do in their “free time"? Beca doesn’t want to know.)

The opening bars of the song blare out of the speakers, and Chloe points directly at Beca before she starts singing. 

“ _My chick she’s a little bit punk rock_  
 _Can’t stand when I’m listening to hip-hop._  
 _She prefers White Snake over Drake_  
 _But I make her listen to it anyway.“_

 Beca reddens, sinking down lower in her seat as the other Bellas and bar patrons cheer.

“ _She says left and I say right_  
 _Yeah, she says yes and I just might._  
 _‘Cause I go up and she goes down_.”

(The look Stacie gives Beca makes her really uncomfortable and a little bit afraid.)

“ _Yeah, I say something and she freaks out_  
 _I swear she’s out to get me_  
 _She’s horror-movie crazy._  
 _She’s unlike any other_  
 _Man, I think I love her._ ”

 Although it’s embarrassing—and kind of insulting—Beca has to fight to keep a smile off of her face as Chloe serenades her. When she finally finishes (and politely turns down the middle-aged man who shouts “Encore!“), Chloe plops down next to Beca, winding her arms around the smaller girl’s shoulders.

"So,” she says, shaking her red locks out of her face, “what’d you think?“

"It was a bit… misogynistc for my taste,” Beca says, settling her hands on Chloe’s hips. “But I love you, too.“

Amy shouts “Awww” so loudly that everyone in the bar turns to look at them. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. They don't know each other. Club. Every time someone flirts with Beca, Chloe suddenly flirts with said someone. Beca gets enough of it! You can take it from there. Bonus points if you use the line "dude, seriously?"

_This was a bad idea_ , Beca thinks as she stares into the bottom of her empty glass. All around her, patrons dance, drink, laugh, and—namely—socialize. 

And what is Beca doing? 

Sitting at the bar and casting sideways glances at a redhead a few stools down.

“Hi.”

Beca looks up to see a girl, a little older than her, with short, spiky hair and a nose ring. “Um, hello.”

The girl plops down on a stool next to her and touches the metal bar that runs through the to of Beca’s ear. “That’s hot.”

“Thanks. I—”

“You’ll never guess what I have pierced.”

Beca glances up sharply to see the redhead on the other side of Nose Ring Girl (whose eyes widen comically). “No shit?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

The redhead just winks and holds out her hand. “I’m Chloe.”

“Jo.” Nose Ring Girl looks at Chloe in a way that makes Beca feel like she needs to take a shower.

She clears her throat, frowning at the loss of attention. “I’m Beca,” she says loudly. Jo turns and gives her a  _that’s nice_  look. Chloe leans over and whispers something in Jo’s ear and they both laugh. “Dude, seriously?” Beca mutters under her breath, suppressing the urge to add, “I was here first!”

It’s only when both of the girls turn around to stare at her does she realize she’s said it out loud. She laughs awkwardly, feeling her face flush. 

After a long pause, Jo looks at the screen of her phone theatrically. “Oh, I have to go. It was nice meeting you guys!” she hurries away before either girl has a chance to respond.

Beca stares at her hands, feeling Chloe’s eyes on her. “I was right,” she announces, and Beca gives her a strange look.

“About you being hot when you’re jealous,” Chloe clarifies, scooting over to the stool next to Beca’s.

“I wasn’t jealous,” Beca says defensively.

“ _I was here first_ ,” Chloe mimics. “You’re either jealous or three years old.”

The brunette crosses her arms, looking Chloe up and down, seeming unsure. “Do you really have… you know,” she gestures her arms vaguely, “pierced?”

“Oh God, honey, no,” Chloe says. “What kind of person do you think I am?” Then she leans forward and whispers, “Why, do you want me to? Because if I’m gonna do it I’d rather do it with you.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” Beca says quickly, shaking her head.

Chloe laughs. “Let me buy you a drink.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since it's Anna Kendrick's birthday tomorrow.. How about a birthday related drabble?

“Becaaaaaa!”

 

Beca jerks awake just in time to see a flash of red hair as Chloe catapults herself onto the bed—and, consequently, onto Beca—with a  _thump_. 

“Happy birthday!” Chloe shouts, settling in Beca’s lap as the smaller girl wakes up properly.

“Chloe,” she groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, “what is wrong with you?”

Chloe chuckles and readjusts the blue bow she’s stuck to the middle of her forehead before reaching down to attach something to Beca’s shirt. It’s a pink button that reads “It’s my birthday!” in obnoxiously large letters. 

“There,” Chloe says with a satisfied nod. “Now everyone will know.”

Beca shuts her eyes momentarily. “Please tell me you’re not going to drag me to a restaurant where they sing you happy birthday.”

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, baby,” Chloe announces, tapping Beca on the nose. “I am going to get as much free cake out of this as I can.”

“Is that all this relationship is to you?” Beca asks, feigning offense. “An extra free-cake opportunity?”

“Of course not. I’m using you for your body as well,” Chloe says, looking down Beca’s body suggestively.

“How about you use me for my body right now and we can forget that you nearly punctured one of my lungs?”

Chloe holds up a finger and reaches behind her with the other hand. “Presents first.” She pulls out a small box wrapped in shiny purple paper.

Beca takes the box and rips off the paper eagerly before gasping. In her hands is a pair of Westone 3 earphones. “Chloe, I… these are $350.” She turns the box over in her hands, a wondrous expression on her face. “You should take them back,” she says half-heartedly.

Chloe shakes her head. “I want you to have them.”

“Thank you so much,” Beca says, kissing her girlfriend hard. “You’re the best.”

The redhead pulls out another gift bag. “I have one more—”

“Chloe, I can’t—”

Chloe holds up her hand. “Just open it. It’s something I can use while I use you for your body,” she says with a wink.

Beca looks confused before looking in the bag. “ _Oh_.” She flips the two over so that she’s straddling Chloe. “Well, in that case…”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca working out and accidentally shows her abs to Chloe and Chloe practically faints.. you can take it from there

“All I’m saying is that I don’t see the point of doing half an hour of cardio for a three-and-a-half-minute routine,” Beca says as she pulls the door of the gym locker room.

Chloe shrugs and drops her bag on a bench. “I plead the fifth.” She takes off her shirt and wipes her forehead with it before pulling a towel out of her bag.

“At least I can eat as many cheeseburgers as I want,” Beca grumbles as she yanks off her own shirt and bends down to untie her sneakers. When she rights herself, she notices Chloe staring at her stomach. 

“Chloe? You okay?” she asks, glancing down confusedly.

“I…” Chloe blinks a few times but doesn’t shift her glance. “Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Beca asks, starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

“Why didn’t I know that you have a six-pack?” Chloe blurts.

“Um.” Beca is taken aback. She covers her stomach self-consciously. “Was I supposed to tell you that?”

“But you don’t work out.” Chloe seems genuinely confused.

“I’m… sorry?”

“You should be,” Chloe says seriously. “You could totally being using this as a pick-up line.”

Beca snorts. “Maybe in the 19th century. ‘If you date me you’ll never have to buy a washboard again.’”

“We’ll work on it.” Chloe strips off the rest of her clothes, and Beca averts her eyes and blushes. “We can test your theory on my gym clothes, though, if you want,” she calls over her shoulder as she steps into the shower.

“You’re so weird,” Beca shouts, shaking her head.

“Love you too.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe, they don't know each other, meet on a train when Chloe spots Beca reading a book Chloe likes and they sit together on the train the rest of the ride

You know how you can sometimes  _feel_  someone’s eyes on you? Call her paranoid, but Beca just has this feeling that someone’s watching her. She looks up from her book, glances around the train car, and—

Yep. Redhead, ten o’clock.

(A very attractive redhead with strikingly blue eyes, but that’s beside the point.)

Beca tries to go back to reading, but it’s very hard to focus on the book when she’s consciously trying to  _act natural_ —not like she’s being scrutinized by a jealousy-invokingly pretty girl. After a few minutes, she becomes engrossed in her book and doesn’t even notice that—

“Hi.”

—the girl has taken the empty seat next to Beca.

“Um, hello,” Beca says awkwardly, acutely aware that this girl smells very good.

“I’m Chloe,” the girl says with a smile.

“I’m… Beca?” It comes out more as a question, as Beca is not accustomed to being approached by strangers.

“I’m sorry if this is weird, but I couldn’t help but notice that you’re reading  _The Man Who Loved Clowns_ ,” Chloe says, tapping the cover of the book in Beca’s lap. “It’s my favorite book.”

"Re-reading, actually,” Beca corrects.

“Oh, my God,” Chloe says, looking awestruck. “Marry me.”

“When we get to New York,” Beca jokes. “But you haven’t gotten to the part where I start crying.”

“I know, I cry every time, too,” Chloe says, clapping a hand over her heart dramatically.

“It’s ridiculously underrated. Nobody I’ve ever talked to has heard of it, let alone read it,” Beca says, not caring that she sounds like a total nerd.

“Right?!” Chloe exclaims so loudly that the people seated across the aisle turn and give them dirty looks. “I think you are actually my soulmate." 

Beca pretends to look Chloe up and down flirtatiously. “I can deal with that.”

"Okay, here’s the real test,” Chloe says, shifting in her seat so that she’s facing the other girl. “Name three other books that you like. And please, for the love of God, do not say  _The Fault in Our Stars_.”

"Um.” Beca pauses to think. “ _Schuyler’s Monster_  by Rob Rummel-Hudson,  _Lost Memory of Skin_ by Russell Banks, and anything by John Robison.”

Chloe actually bounces in her seat with excitement. “I love John Robison! He’s  _hilarious_.”

"I must have read half of  _Raising Cubby_  out loud to my mom, it was so funny,” Beca gushes, placing her bookmark in her book and turning to fully face Chloe.

"And I read  _Lost Memory of Skin_  for a project in high school,” Chloe says. “It’s interesting how it’s kind of an inadvertent social commentary.”

"That’s deep." 

Chloe rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “And I haven’t read the other one you mentioned.”

"Well then,” Beca says, jokingly-grandiosely. “Then let me educate you.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. Beca turns up to practice with a multitude of hickeys thanks to Chloe. The Bellas interrogate her about who they're from.

_Eight AM is way too early for singing and dancing_ , Beca thinks, yawning, as she drops her bag onto an empty chair. When she turns around, she notices Stacie looking at her curiously.

“What?” The look she’s getting is making her a bit uncomfortable.

“Why is your neck so much tanner than the rest of your skin?” Stacie asks, stepping forward for a closer look.

 _Crap_. Beca pulls the collar of her shirt up higher on her neck. “I must have missed putting sunscreen there?” she tries, crossing her fingers behind her back.

Stacie crosses her arms. “Nice try.” Before Beca can stop her, she reaches out and swipes her thumb over the skin of Beca’s neck.

“Hey!”

“Ha!” Stacie holds out her fingers, which are smeared with concealer. The wiped-off makeup reveals a barrage of small bruises underneath. “Someone got laid last night.”

“Who got laid last night?” Amy asks, sidling up the Stacie. “Unless it was you, Stacie. Then I don’t want to hear about that.”

“No one,” Beca says, shooting Stacie a look and trying to more past her.

“Uh-uh,” Stacie says, blocking her path. “Spill. Who was it?”

“It’s none of your business!” Beca exclaims, louder than she’d meant to sound, face flushing red.

Stacie makes a dismissive  _tsk_  sound as Cynthia Rose, Jessica, Denise, and Ashley wander over to see what the commotion is about.

“What’s going on?” Denise asks, peering around Fat Amy. 

“Whoa, what happened to your neck?” Jessica asks. 

“Nothing. It’s  _nothing_ ,” Beca says, clapping a hand over her neck. “You act like you’ve never seen them before.”

"Not  _that_  many,” Cynthia Rose says, smirking. “Who was it?”

"Was it Jesse?” Stacie asks. “Did you get Treble-boned?”

“No!” Beca shakes her head adamantly. 

“Who got Treble-boned?” booms a voice from behind the group. 

Beca turns around warily to see Aubrey and Chloe approaching. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath.

“Need I remind you of the oath all of you took?” Aubrey raises her eyebrows and pins each girl with a pointed look.

“No, no one’s hooking up with Trebles,” Beca clarifies. She covertly shoots Chloe a look, who in turn hides a smile behind her hand. 

“Okay,” Aubrey says, looking skeptical. “Keep it that way.”

Cynthia Rose leans in for a look at Beca’s neck. “So if it wasn’t Jesse then—”

“Look!” Jessica cuts her off, pointing at Chloe, who freezes in the midst of taking off her scarf. Her expression is at first confusion, and then one that clearly reads  _oh, shit_.

On her neck, clear as day, are three small hickeys. 

“You guys are sleeping together?!” Amy yells, loud enough for the entire campus to hear. 

“Congratulations, Blue’s Clues, you solved the mystery,” Beca grumbles.

“Aca-scuse me?” Aubrey glances from Beca to Chloe and back again, looking horrified.

“Fuck you,” Beca hisses to Chloe.

“Looks like you already have!” Stacie says gleefully, giving Amy a high five.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca tries to impress Chloe with her abs and her pickup lines it"s pretty awkward but eventually Chloe is sold.

“I’ll give you fifty bucks if you can take that chick home tonight.”

Beca snorts and peers at Jesse over her drink. She glances at the girl—an impossibly pretty, scantily-clad redhead—and shakes her head. “Maybe in another universe when pale, awkward, and very, very small girls can pick up supermodels.”

“I’ll give you twenty if you go over there, right now, and use a bad pick-up line on her,” Jesse wagers, bobbing his head to the beat of the alarmingly loud music the club is blasting through their cheap sound system.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life?” Beca asks, casting another glance at the girl.

“I take being your lesbro very seriously, Beca.” Jesse places a hand over his heart. “Now go.”

“How?” Beca looks down herself. “I have no…. marketable assets.”

“I think you have very nice assets.”

“That’s weird, dude,” Beca says, wrinkling her nose.

“Sorry. Just—” Jesse pauses to think for a moment. “Here.” He tugs at the hem of Beca’s t-shirt to reveal her annoyingly perfectly-toned abdomen.

“What’s my pick-up line, then? ‘I pick things up I put them down’?” Beca swats his hand away.

“You’ll think of something. Now go.” Jesse gives her a shove in the direction of the redhead.

“Okay, fine. But you owe me a hundred bucks if she throws a drink in my face.”

“Fair enough.”

Beca makes her way to where the girl is seated at the bar, pushing her shirt up a little bit higher. “Um, hi,” she says with a little wave.

“Hi,” the girl says, giving her a pleasant enough expression.

“I got arrested the other day,” Beca says, thanking God for the dark lights in the club so the girl can’t see her blushing. “For having two guns and a six pack.” She flexes a bicep and not-so-discreetly gestures to her stomach as the girl stares at her, mouth slightly agape.

“I don’t know what to say to that,” she says after a moment.

“Then how  _ab_ out coming home with me,” Beca tries, giving Jesse the finger behind her back. 

The girl raises her eyebrows.

"You are  _ab_ solutely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen?” It comes out sounding more like a question, but the girl at least gives a small chuckle. “I think I’ve found what’s been  _ab_ sent from my whole li—”

"Okay,” the girl cuts her off. She smacks her hand on the surface of the bar and announces, “Sold! To the awkward girl in the belly shirt.”

“I’m sorr—oh.” Beca starts to apologize before what the girl said registers. 

“How about we go somewhere more private?” she asks flirtatiously, taking Beca’s hand. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Beca.” She sticks her tongue out at Jesse as they walk toward the door of the club.

“Not  _Ab_ igail?” Chloe teases, knocking playfully on Beca’s abdomen.

"Please never speak of this again,” Beca says, tugging her shirt back down.

“How about we talk about it tomorrow morning?” Chloe says with a wink, letting the door of the club slam shut behind her.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. college/highschool. they don't know (much) about each other. english class. they have contrasting views about a story discussed. tension (attraction). you can take it from there .:)

Beca is just falling asleep from sheer boredom as the teacher is assigning partners to discuss a short story—”The Red Convertible” or “The Red Conservative” or something.

“Benji and Jesse,” she says, her glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose. “Aubrey and Stacie. Bumper and Amy. Beca and—” She knocks on Beca’s desk, effectively interrupting any part of her that may have been sleeping. “Chloe.”

Beca wipes her mouth on her sleeve and cranes her neck around too look across the room, where Chloe is smiling at her brightly. She’s seen her around school, and she’s very… participative (although, quite honestly, Beca wants to tell her to just shut the fuck up). Reluctantly, she drags herself over to Chloe’s desk and plops down on an empty chair.

The smell of Chloe’s perfume is so overwhelming Beca nearly gags when she opens her mouth to speak. “Yeah, so about this Red Crucible—”

“ _Convertible_ ,” Chloe immediately corrects, carefully lining her pencil up with the edge of the desk. “I think that the convertible is a symbol of Henry and Lyman’s relationship. The car portrays the ‘banged up’—” She holds her fingers up in air quotes. “—relationship as it deteriorates after the war.”

Beca is absently picking at her cuticles when she notices Chloe staring at her expectantly. “Oh, yeah, I totally agree.”  _Does she ever shut up? And is it natural to have eyes that blue?_  Beca thinks, finding herself being distracted by said eyes.

“Furthermore,” the redhead says, and Beca groans internally. “When Henry discovers the car, as well as his relationship with Lyman is damaged, he confronts Lyman. He says, “ _When I left, that car was running like a watch. Now I don’t even know I can get it to start again, let alone get it anywhere near its old condition_ ”.” Chloe makes a small note in the margin of her packet—which is actually highlighted and marked up.

Beca’s so distracted by Chloe’s eyes that it takes her a moment to realize that Uh, absolutely.” She gives an affirmative nod.

"Are you even paying attention, Beca?” Chloe asks, frowning.

Beca tries to look affronted. “Of course I am!”

“Then what does the color red in the story symbolize?”

“Um, that in the Native American culture, the color of red represents faith and communication. The title of the story is the main source of communication between the brothers,” Beca says matter-of-factly.

For a moment, Chloe looks as though steam is going to pour out of her ears. "You just read that off of my notes!”

“Or maybe we’re just  _really_  in sync with each other?” Beca tries.

“Or you’re just lazy,” Chloe spits, pressing her fingers to her temples. 

“Hey!” Beca holds up a hand. “I’m not  _just_  lazy. I’m also parasitic and lethargic.”

“That’s it, I can’t work with you. Mrs.—”

“Hold up!” Beca interrupts before she can stop herself. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I just think this whole symbolism thing is bullshit. And anything I have to say can’t compare to your top-ten analysis.”

Chloe crosses her arms and sits back in her chair, but doesn’t speak.

“Also I kind of fell asleep,” Beca adds sheepishly.

“If you wanted help analyzing the story, all you had to do was ask,” Chloe says softly. “You’re very smart, Beca. A pain in the ass, but still smart.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended by that.”

Suddenly, the teacher claps her hands. “There’ll be a quiz on the story tomorrow!” she says, and several students groan.

Beca turns to Chloe. “How about that study date?”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe, they don't know each other, it's New Years in New York City and they're both in Times Square, one of them kisses the other for the New Years kiss and you can take it from there (:

“I’m cold.”

“You’re always cold.”

“I don’t have enough insulation,” Beca whines, bouncing on the balls of her feet in an effort to keep warm. 

“Polar bears have hollow shafts in their fur to help with insulation,” Jesse says, checking the time on his phone for the umpteenth time.

“What a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” Beca says flatly, her ability to speak being infringed upon by her violently chattering teeth. The festive, bright, flashing lights blink and glitter all around her, making her dizzy.

“Well, you didn’t think to bring gloves,” Jesse points out. He readjusts the ridiculous hat that reads “Happy New Year!” that he had insisted on buying for twenty bucks. 

Beca shuffles in closer to Jesse’s side. “Whatever.”

An obnoxious, dramatic gasp escapes from Jesse. “Is Beca Mitchell asking for a hug?”

“No,” Beca says, “Beca Mitchell is dying from hypothermia and values her life.”

A mischievous grin crosses Jesse’s face. He wraps his muscular arms around her small frame and squeezes tightly.

“No!” Beca shrieks, attempting to twist out of his arms. “Get off me!”

“Hug it out, Becaw,” he says, loosening his grip as to not accidentally strangle the smaller girl.

Beca shoves herself out of his arms… and directly into a person behind her.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she says, righting herself and turning to face the person she nearly bulldozed. The person—a girl, to be exact—pushes the hat that had been knocked forward out of her eyes. Startlingly blue eyes, Beca notices. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, glancing from Beca to Jesse and back again. “Is he bothering you?”

Beca casts a smirk at Jesse. “Yeah, he is.”

The girl shoots Jesse a dirty look and takes Beca’s hands in her own. “Your hands are freezing!” She lifts tucks them into her own jacket pockets.

Beca flinches a bit, but doesn’t pull back. “Um, thanks.”

“I’m Chloe,” the girl says, her cheeks tinged red from the cold. It’s cute—unlike when Beca is cold, and she somehow ends up looking like she’s sunburned.

“Beca.” After a few moments, Beca starts to feel her fingers thawing.

Chloe leans in. “Do we need to ditch him?” She nods towards Jesse, who just looks uncomfortable.

“Nah, he’s my friend,” Beca assures her. “Albeit an annoying one.”

Jesse opens his mouth to protest but is cut off. Around them, all of the people are beginning the countdown chant to the new year.

“ _Five, four, three two, one…._ ”

As the crowd erupts in cheers, Chloe presses a firm yet soft, short yet sweet kiss to Beca’s lips. It takes a moment for Beca to process; she’s not sure if the fireworks she hears are internal or external. Maybe both.

“Happy New Year,” Chloe whispers against Beca’s lips.

“Happy New Year,” she murmurs back.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe thinks that Beca is cheating on her with Stacie

“I think that you’re cheating on me with Stacie.”

Beca chuckles and continues scribbling notes for the philosophy exam she had suddenly remembered she should probably study for. She glances up and sees Chloe’s eyes filling with tears. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“This isn’t a joke, Beca!” Chloe’s face grows splotchy and she starts to do that hiccup-hyperventilating thing she always does before stars hardcore crying.

“What?! I’m not cheating on you!” Beca moves her notes onto the coffee table and shifts closer to Chloe,  who turns away. 

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” she says, hunching her shoulders defensively.

Panic flutters in Beca’s stomach. “And where did you get this idea?” She can’t help the edge of anger that snakes into her voice.

“I know that you’ve been staying after rehearsal together,” Chloe spits. “I’ve seen you sneak off to the library. Like, really, Beca? The  _library_?”

 _Oh_. “Chloe, we’re not sleeping together. Stacie’s been tutoring me for my calc class.”

Chloe laughs a hollow, bitter laugh. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

"I swear to God it’s true!” Beca pleads, tugging at Chloe’s elbow.

She whips around. “God, Beca, if you’re going to lie to me, at least make it convincing.”

“I’m not lying!” Beca shouts desperately.

“Don’t patronize me. If you needed help with math, why not tell me? Why sneak around? Stacie isn’t exactly the smartest person I’ve ever met. You don’t care about your grades, and you clearly don’t care about me,” Chloe rants, tears spilling from her eyes.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but Stacie is actually really good at math. She took this class in high school,” Beca explains, sniffling back tears of her own. “If I fail this class, my GPA won’t be high enough to stay in the Bellas. I do care about you—I  _love_  you—and didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was stupid.” Beca mumbles the last part of her sentence, casting her eyes downward.

Chloe is quiet for a moment. Beca reaches into her backpack and pulls out a binder and, after rifling through it for a moment, pulls out a progress report. “Look, these were my grades before Stacie started helping me.” She points to a column of Ds and Fs smattered with a couple of Cs. “And these are my grades now.” Higher Cs, many Bs, and even a few As. “I swear I’m not lying to you.”

"Oh.” Chloe’s face reddens. “I’m so sorry I accused you of that.”

Beca blows out a shaky breath, her anxiety starting to subside. “So you believe me?”

“I believe you.” Chloe starts to move like she’s going to lean in for a kiss, but then hesitates. 

Beca closes the gap and pecks her on the lips. “I’m going to go for a walk, if that’s okay.”

Chloe nods. “Sure, go.”

The brunette unfolds herself from the couch and is about to walk out of the room when Chloe speaks: “One more thing?”

“Hmm?” Beca turns around, leaning against the doorframe. 

“You’re not stupid,” Chloe says softly.

Beca nods in concession, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thanks.”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe playing video games together.

Beca yanks off her headphones, irritated, and massages her temples. She’s spent the last two hours trying to figure out a mix, but something is throwing off her focus.

 

Wait.

There’s music blaring from down the hall. 

“Goddammit, Chloe,” Beca huffs, opening the bedroom door and following the raucous strains of Reggaeton Storm. She hangs a right into the living room and shouts, “Chloe! Will you turn that do—”

 _Whoa_. Beca’s eyes widen as she’s accosted with a very provocatively-dancing Chloe, momentarily forgetting what she was about to do, how she got there, and her home phone number. Her girlfriend is playing that damn Wii game that Beca had previously insisted only be played when she isn’t home because the music is so damn irritating.

Call it an epiphany, but  _damn_ , she has changed her mind.

Chloe is stationed in front of the TV in a sports bra and shorts, remote strapped to one wrist, hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She follows the motions of the glowing green figure on the screen, alternately swishing her hips from side to side and thrusting her chest out. Beca watches with her mouth slightly agape as Chloe hits her finishing pose and pauses the game, out of breath. It’s then when she turns around, flushed red and forehead glistening with sweat, that she notices Beca.

“Oh, hey,” she says, taking a sip from a glass of water stationed on the coffee table. “Was I too loud?”

It takes a moment for the words to register in Beca’s head. “Yeah—er, no—I, well..” she stammers, still overwhelmed by the rise and fall of Chloe’s chest.

The redhead cocks an eyebrow, a knowing grin on her face. “You feeling okay, babe? You look kinda red.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Beca says, waving her hand vaguely and leans against the doorframe casually. “Just… hot.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Chloe says with a smirk. “Well, I’m going to go cool off—” She casts Beca a lascivious wink. “—in the shower. You can join me if you need to.”

Beca nods a little too quickly. “That’s a good idea.”

Chloe just shakes her head and saunters off toward the bathroom, Beca following close behind.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe. idk I like jealous Chloe. and completely oblivious Beca.

There are a few places Beca associates with pain and discomfort: The dentist, for one. Her father’s house. The doctor’s. The gym.

And the mall.

“I’m hungry,” Beca whines, dragging her feet with every step. “And I have a headache from going into Yankee Candle.”

“We’ve been here for twenty minutes,” Chloe reminds her from several paces ahead.

“That long?” Beca presses two fingers to her pulse point. “I think my heart rate might be elevated. I should sit down.”

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Chloe huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can you just act your age for two—”

“Beca!”

Both girls turn toward the sound of the voice: a tanned, toned brunette wearing an expensive watch, approaching them.

“Hey, dude!” Beca calls, waving him over. He towers a good six or seven inches over her and smells like Axe body spray. “Chloe, this is Kevin. Family friend.”

“Hi,” Kevin says, flashing Chloe a toothy smile and extending a hand. She shakes it, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Wow, Bec, you look great,” he says, turning to Beca and quickly taking in her appearance. “Although you still dress like a teenage boy with cleavage.”

“Ouch, man.” Beca shoves at his shoulder. “Eyes up here.” She taps her temple.

“If you wanted me to look at your eyes you wouldn’t wear a shirt halfway down to your bellybutton,” Kevin teases.

Beca pulls at her shirt self-consciously. Suddenly she feels Chloe’s hand snake around her waist, tucking itself firmly into her back pocket. “I suppose what you lack in height you make up for in—” Chloe gestures vaguely at her chest. “—width,” she purrs, shifting closer.

Beca gives her a strange look. “Thanks.” Chloe presses a kiss to the side of her mouth.

“Still working your womanly wiles, I see,” Kevin jokes, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Chloe says, winking suggestively.

“Chloe!” Beca hisses, face flushing.

Kevin glances between the two of them. “Um, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you around, Bec.”

“Bye,” Beca calls after him before turning to face her girlfriend. “What was that about?”

“What was that about?” Chloe repeats, dumfounded. “He was totally hitting on you!”

“No, he wasn’t!” Beca argues, running a hand through her hair.

“He  _so_  was! How can you not see that?”

"Chloe, you don’t understand,” Beca says. “He wasn’t. He’s  _gay_.”

A beat of silence.

"Oh.” Chloe looks at her feet sheepishly.

Beca playfully whacks her on the head. “Yeah,  _oh_. So calm your tits.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says, resting her head momentarily on Beca’s shoulder. 

“It’s fine.” Beca rolls her eyes.

“But we’re still not going home.” Chloe hitches her bag further up on her shoulder and walks away, towing a groaning Beca along by the hand. 


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art museum. Chloe insults a painting that artist!Beca painted.

Ten minutes. 

Chloe’s been staring at this painting for ten minutes, and she still can’t figure out how it came to be on display in an actual art museum. 

If you had set her in front of this painting in a neutral setting, she’d guess it was done by a six-year-old. Set on a beige background, it’s splattered with primary-colored paints intermixed with strange stick figure-ish approximations. She takes a step back, squinting, and knocks right into someone behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” Chloe apologizes, turning to find she’s stumbled over a fairly compact brunette with heavily lined eyes.

“It’s cool,” she says, shrugging. Then she gestures to the first-grade art project (Chloe refuses to call it a  _painting_ ). “You like this one? You’ve been staring at it for a while.”

Chloe arches an eyebrow, internally noting the fact that this girl has been observing her for an extended period of time. “Not particularly, no.”

The girl stiffens visibly. “Oh?” she asks, sounding a bit forced. “And why’s that?”

“Well, it’s ugly, to begin with. It looks like a little kid made it,” Chloe says, shaking her head. “Clearly the artist is just a Jackson Pollock wannabe.”

“Oh, really?” The girl narrows her eyes. “Because I painted this. And the only Jackson Pollock wannabe here is that Jackson Pollock wannabe  _me_.” She jabs a thumb in the center of her chest.

“Take a chill pill—” Chloe leans forward to read the placard next to the painting. “— _Beca_. People are allowed to criticize your work.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you can think of a more polite way to do so,” Beca says haughtily. “It’s ab _stract_. I wouldn’t expect  _you_  to get it.” She pauses. “Bitch,” she adds for good measure.

Chloe laughs derisively. “What was that about being polite?”

“You started it,” Beca fires back, crossing her arms over her chest. Something about how the words and the gesture give already-tiny Beca a childish look strikes Chloe as amusing, and she can’t suppress the giggle that escapes her.

“Is this funny to you?” Beca asks, looking perturbed.

This amuses Chloe further, and she bites her lip to keep from full-on laughing. “I’m sorry,” she says, hiding her smile behind a hand. Then Beca puts her hands on her hips, and she loses it, bursting out laughing (albeit trying really, really hard to keep from disturbing the other museum patients—at which she fails miserably). 

“Stop it,” Beca hisses, desperately hoping that no one associates her with this strange girl. “Shut  _up_.”

“Sorry,” Chloe gasps out, taking a few deep breaths to regain her control.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Beca stage-whispers.

“Sorry,” Chloe repeats. “You just so…  _cute_. You look like a really pissed-off cat.”

“I—I'm—wha—” Beca sputters angrily, face flushing red, before settling on, “I’m not  _cute_!”

Chloe holds up her hands. “O-kay,” she says, with a laugh on the edge of her voice.

“Excuse me.” Both girls turn to see an elderly lady in an unfortunate paisley dress. “Could you quiet down? You’re disturbing everyone.” She gestures behind her to the two other people in the room, who actually seem relatively indifferent.

“Yeah, Beca,” Chloe says. “You’re disturbing people.”

Beca looks as though steam is about to pour from her ears. “Sorry, ma'am,” she chokes out, eyes shooting daggers at Chloe. The woman ambles away to another room.

Chloe glances at the time on her phone. “Well, I have to go. It was nice to meet you,” she says, shooting the painting one last disgusted glare, and starting to walk away.

“Wait,” Beca calls, a few paces behind. Chloe turns, eyebrows raised. “I never caught your name.”

“Um,” Chloe says, suspicious. “I’m Chloe.”

Beca nods slowly. “Well. Fuck you, Chloe." 

Then she whirls around and stomps away.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the confession scene, instead of Beca confessing she liked having friends (or Chloe confessing she had her nodes removed) she confesses she's in love with Chloe. (or Chloe's in love with Beca)

Fat Amy is speaking. 

At least, Beca can see her lips moving. She’s a bit distracted by the deafening uncertainty clouding her mind.

_This is a bad idea_ , she thinks, and quickly formulates a backup plan. Then she stops herself.  _No, I should._

When Amy’s lips stop moving—and a strange look crosses everyone’s faces—Beca stands. Then freezes, rooted to the spot, mouth slightly open.

It’s only when Cynthia Rose clears her throat that Beca remembers how to talk. “Um,” she says, wringing her hands anxiously. “So, you guys know that I wasn’t too…” She glances at Aubrey. “…keen on joining the Bellas.” Everybody chuckles (except for Fat Amy, who barks a laugh so loud that any pedestrians outside could probably hear her).

“Thanks,” Beca deadpans. “So,” she says again, “there was one person who changed my mind.” She glances at the said person—Chloe—and then quickly looks at her shoes. “And that was Chloe. She convinced me to join and for a while she was the only reason I stayed.”

She dares another quick look. Chloe is smiling, which is a good sign. Everyone else is either also smiling, except for Aubrey, who looks a bit surprised, and Amy, who is whispering something to Cynthia Rose. 

Beca takes another deep breath, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. “And I just wanted to say thanks. And also—” Another deep breath. “—that I really, really like you, Chloe.”

A pause.

Chloe’s expression is hard to read; her eyebrows are raised, but she has a half-smirk on her face. Aubrey looks a bit pale, though.

“And… Would you want to go on a date with me?” Beca says in a rush, some of her words blending into others, face flushing.

There’s a moment of dead silence.  _This was a bad idea. This was a really, really bad—_

“I KNEW IT!” Amy screams, jumping out of her chair. “Pay up, bitches!”

Cynthia Rose, Denise, and—wait a second.

“Aubrey?” Chloe screeches, mouth falling open. “You were betting on this?”

Aubrey gives a sheepish shrug. “I couldn’t help it. What with you blathering on about Beca all of the time and Beca staring at your ass in practice.”

“Hey!” both Chloe and Beca shout. 

“I do not!” Beca adds, flushing brighter. 

“You do,” at least four people chorus—including Chloe. Beca crosses her arms and sits down in a huff.

“Don’t worry,” Aubrey says soothingly. “Chloe talks about your ass, too. And your boobs—OW!” She’s cut off by Chloe smacking her on the shoulder. Hard.

“This is why I can’t have nice things,” she mutters under her breath, now also blushing. After a moment, Chloe notices everyone looking at her expectantly. “What?”

“Are you gonna go out with her or what?” Cynthia Rose asks, gesturing to Beca, who is trying to figure out how to disappear into her chair.

“Oh, right.” Chloe turns to Beca, smiling. “I would love to go out with you.”

“HA!” comes a shout. Everyone turns to see Denise holding a hand out to Cynthia Rose. “You owe me $20.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about Beca and Chloe not meeting at the activities fair but at some frat party? I don't even know you take it from there I believe a drunk flirty Chloe on a socially awkward Beca would be fun!

“Jesse, where the fuck are you?” Beca mutters to herself, tapping her hand anxiously against her jean-clad leg as she leans against the wall and tries to look casual.  _Casually standing alone in the corner at a party_ , Beca thinks to herself as she observes the other party-goers as they dance, drink, and play stupid, made-up games (no, really—some group of frat guys were playing some strange mix of beer pong and hopscotch as she arrived).

“Jeez, Bec, don’t look so happy.”

Beca turns her head lazily to see Jesse holding a plastic cup out to her. “I’m thrilled. Can’t you tell?” She accepts the cup and peers into it, frowning.

“What now?” Jesse asks, sighing.

“It’s…  _green_ ,” Beca says, setting the cup on a nearby table and eyeing it warily, as if it’ll jump back at her. “What the fuck kind of drink is tha—”

“Hey,” says a voice behind her.

Beca jumps and turns around. In front of her stands a redhead, holding an identical cup in one hand with the other braced on the exposed skin of her popped hip. “Um, hi.”

“Mind if I cut in?” the girl asks, moving the hand that’s on her hip to lean against the wall above Beca’s shoulder.

Jesse chuckles. “That’s my cue to leave.” He slips between the throng of dancing people and disappears.

“I’m Chloe,” the girl says. “What’s your name?”

“Beca,” Beca says, forcing a smile that probably comes across as an awkward grimace.

Suddenly, the music changes, and Chloe gasps. “This song is my jam!”

Beca strains to hear the melody over the din of the people and occasional shouts of the frat guys as they assert their masculinity in some drinking game. After a moment, she recognizes the song as “Titanium." 

"You know David Guetta?” she asks incredulously.

“Yeah,” Chloe says, nodding enthusiastically. “That song is my  _lady_  jam. It really builds.” She winks.

Beca opens her mouth, then closes it. “Oh,” is all she can come up with.

“Do you sing?” Chloe asks, swaying to the music, the weird mystery-mouthwash-type liquid sloshing dangerously close to the edge of her cup.

“Nah,” Beca says, “not really.”

“You should join our a capella group,” Chloe says. “The Barden Bellas.”

“Um, that’s not really my thing…”

“We sing covers of songs without any instruments,” Chloe continues, leaning closer. “It’s all from our mouths.” Another wink.

“That’s… nice,” Beca says, feeling a bit overheated. Chloe’s so close she can smell whatever the drink is on her breath. (It kinds of smells like spearmint— _is_  it mouthwash?)

“Auditions are next Wednesday,” Chloe tells her, seemingly oblivious to Beca’s disinterest.

“Look, no offense, but I don’t really want to—”

“Chloe!” someone shouts from a few feet away. The redhead looks up, smiles, and waves to someone. 

“I gotta go, but it was nice talking to you,” she says. She reaches around and, before Beca can stop her, swipes the phone from Beca’s back pocket. ( _How did she know if was there?_ ) She taps at the screen for a moment before handing the phone back over.

“Now you have my number. Text me so I have yours.” Chloe skips away, calling over her shoulder, “See you at auditions!” with a wave.

Beca just shakes her head.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Chloe is a doctor? Because Chloe Beale as a doctor it just... I don't know, it does things to me! hahaha so it could be something like Beca being sick or I don't know, it could be AU, anything

“Morning, sleepyhead—whoa, what’s wrong with your face?”

Beca scowls and shuffles past Chloe into the kitchen. “Nice to see you, too.” Even though it’s three in the afternoon, she’s just woken up, still clad in an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants. Her nose, however, is bright red and face is flushed as well.  
  
“Are you okay?” Chloe leans closer to inspect. “You look sick.”

“I’m fine,” Beca says, coughing a few times before quickly trying to suppress it. She’s so congested that the word comes out sounding as if she’d said “fide.” “It must be allergies.”

Chloe presses the back of her hand to Beca’s cheek. “You’re really warm, Bec.”

“I’m  _fine_ ,” Beca repeats, sniffling loudly and coughing again. “I don’t get sick.”

"Everyone gets sick.” Chloe chuckles. “Do you feel like you can eat anything?”

Beca nods confidently. “Of course,” she scoffs.

“Great,” Chloe says, opening the fridge. “You should drink some orange juice. You know, vitamin C—”

“I’m not sick.”

“—and I’ll make you some eggs and toast.” Chloe reaches for the carton and rights herself in time to see Beca make a very strange face before rushing down the hall to the bathroom. She hears her very loudly and dramatically vomit into the toilet as she follows.

“Still think you’re not sick?” Chloe asks, holding Beca’s hair as she retches.

“I’m not sick, I’m—”

“Pregnant? Drunk? Ate bad sushi?” Chloe raises an eyebrow.

Beca sighs heavily, wiping at her mouth. “Fine, I might have a little cold.” She breaks into another coughing fit that leaves her gripping the rim of the toilet again.

“Or the plague,” Chloe says, flushing and half-carrying Beca back to their bedroom. “Lie down." 

Beca obliges quietly, shivering until Chloe tosses an extra blanket over her. She leaves, then comes back a few moments later with a box of tissues, a glass of orange juice, and a couple of cough drops, all of which she places on the nightstand before crawling in beside Beca and switching on the TV.

"What are we watching?” Beca watches as Chloe flips through the channels before settling on a show where a girl appears to be pretending to be a matador as someone takes pictures of her.

“ _America’s Next Top Model_  marathon,” Chloe says, absently stroking Beca’s hair. “You have to watch it when you’re sick. It’s, like, the law.”

“I see.” Beca blows her nose loudly, closing her eyes at the pressure in her sinuses. “Chlo?”

“Yeah?” Chloe peers down at her.

“Love you." 

"I love you, too,” Chloe says. “But I’m not going to kiss you for at least three days.”

“Fair enough.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about an actual conversation between Beca and Chloe after the tent scene? Like the next morning, Beca asks Chloe what she meant by that comment. :)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to 2015 we in the age of PP2 now

It’s officially the worst night Beca’s ever had.

First of all, it’s a tent. No way around it. It’s a freaking tent. And not one of those made-for-your-camping-comfort tents. The thin canvas siding does nothing to muffle every little rustle and sound, and there are several points during the night where Beca is  _positive_ that there is a bear right outside. (And no, the thinly netted bear traps that make this damn retreat campus a lawsuit waiting to happen don’t make her feel any safer.)

Then there’s the fact that there are ten of them crammed into a space perhaps once meant to accommodate two. Additionally, they’re ten of quite possibly the weirdest group of people on this planet.

Lilly beatboxes in her sleep. It’s rather strange and kind of amazing, but after a certain point when it’s  _two in the morning_ and right in your ear it’s really freaking irritating. 

Even more concerning are the occasional throaty moans coming from Stacie, who cannot stop groping herself even in sleep. Beca doesn’t even want to  _think_ about what could possibly be going on in her dreams. 

By far the most unnerving, however, is Chloe. Chloe, who looks even more angelic when she sleeps, her chest rising and falling evenly, her face serene. Chloe, who is oblivious to the havoc she is wreaking on Beca’s nervous system. Chloe, who whispers across the inch of space between their lips that she  _wishes she had done more experimenting in college_.

And then falls asleep.

By the time the first rays of morning light filter into the tent and Beca’s reasonably sure she’s not going to get mauled by a bear, she slips outside, picking her way as carefully as possible through the mass of sleeping girls. She spots a large rock several feet away from the tent and sits, taking deep breaths of the fresh air she’s been craving all night, cradling her spinning head in her hands.

She hates this feeling—being unsure, like the world is in on something that she’s not. Yeah, the lines of her friendship with Chloe have been blurred from the start, and, yeah, it’s always Beca’s bed Chloe sneaks into when she can’t sleep, Beca’s shoulder she leans on when they’re watching TV, Beca’s hair she plays with when she’s bored… But surely if there were any real romantic feelings Chloe would have said  _something_ in the last three years.

Right?

She’s growing tired of never knowing for sure; Chloe’s the kind of person who tells Beca to buy a pair of jeans because they make her “ass look hot” and then shifts immediately to complaining about how sick she is of her Russian literature professor.

And dammit, she wants to either settle this or be done with it.

“Beca?”

Beca jumps, whipping her head around. Behind her, Chloe crawls out of the tent, stretching and yawning. Her red hair tumbles in waves around her shoulders. (It’s been three years and Beca  _still_ can’t figure out how someone can look so damn perfect after rolling out of bed.)

“Hey, Chlo,” Beca breathes as Chloe perches next to her on the rock, looping her muscular arm through Beca’s thin one. “What’re you doing up?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Chloe laughs, leaning her head on Beca’s shoulder.

“I was feeling a little claustrophobic,” Beca says, shrugging the shoulder not currently supporting Chloe’s head. It’s not a lie—not exactly, anyway.  _Can you suffocate from your own thoughts?_ Beca wonders to herself.

The two sit in silence, watching as a line of ducks swim across the lake before Chloe breaks the silence: “I can hear you thinking.”

 _Fuck it_ , Beca thinks.

“What did you mean when you said you wished you had experimented more?”

“It probably would have been fun,” Chloe says easily, rubbing circles on Beca’s hands with her thumb. “We’ve all just been so busy with the Bellas and stuff.”

“But, like,” Beca says, trying to focus on finding the right words and not the soft gentleness of Chloe’s hands. “What did you mean when you said it to  _me_?”

Chloe pulls back a bit, looking guarded. She looks down at her hands, then out over the lake, and then back at Beca. “What do  _you_ think I meant by it?”

“I don’t know, Chloe!” Beca tries her best to keep from shouting, but she’s so frustrated. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for the past three years. Please,” Beca says pleadingly, meeting Chloe’s eyes, “give me a straight answer.”

Chloe stares at her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she surges forward, pressing her lips to Beca’s.

It’s short but forceful, leaving Beca heaving for breath when Chloe pulls back, her head swimming.

“Does that answer your question?” Chloe asks, smirking.

“Yes,” Beca breathes. Chloe places a hand on the back of Beca’s neck, pulling her closer once more, but Beca stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Chloe, I…” Beca looks into Chloe’s eyes, feeling a bit like she could lose herself in them. “I don’t want to just be an experiment.”

For a terrifying moment, Chloe doesn’t react—just stares. But then she’s kissing Beca again—passionately, earnestly, desperately. 

“Me either,” Chloe whispers when they finally part. They spend a moment just looking at each other (Beca’s sure she must be grinning like an idiot). Then—

“HA!”

The two jump, spinning around to see Fat Amy’s head poking out of the tent flap. 

“Cynthia Rose, you owe me twenty bucks!” she shouts triumphantly, ducking back inside.

* * *

 

It was definitely the worst night of Beca’s life.

But by far the next morning.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe catches Beca drinking from the carton again, and she’s not exactly pleased with it.

Chloe is a morning person. Beca is not.

At first it took some getting used to; Aubrey was a morning person, too, and they used to get up at seven every morning and harmonize over breakfast.

But then Aubrey moved to Chicago, and Beca moved in.

It felt weird, waking up with the sun, full of energy when Beca was still so sound asleep she could have easily fooled someone into believing she was dead.

Instead, Chloe slips out of their shared bed quietly and goes for runs in the morning, and she’s usually showered and dressed by the time Beca’s fourth—and final—alarm goes off.

It’s one of these mornings where Chloe is eating a yogurt at the kitchen counter when Beca drags herself into the room, hair wild and eyes still half-shut.

“Good morning,” Chloe greets, and Bea grunts in response, blindly opening the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice.

And then she brings it to her mouth and drinks straight out of the carton.

“Beca!” Chloe scolds. “Get yourself a glass!”

Beca shoots her a look, pulls a glass from the cupboard and clunks it down on the counter before taking another sip from the carton, a challenge in her eyes.

How Beca can manage to be such a sarcastic ass when she’s only partially conscious, Chloe doesn’t know.

“Very funny,” Chloe says flatly.

“What’s the difference?” Beca asks, her voice still rough from sleep. “You stick your tongue in my mouth all the time.”

“It’s the  _principle_ , Beca,” Chloe huffs.

“Whatever,” Beca says, digging in the pantry for a box of cereal, and Chloe’s not sure if it’s acquiescence or a brush-off.

* * *

It happens again a few days later.

“Beca,” Chloe warns, her voice low.

(She’s really not sure why it grosses her out so much. Beca has a fair point—Chloe has no qualms about letting Beca put her mouth on… rather intimate parts of her body.)

Beca half-huffs, half-groans, reaching slowly for a glass like it physically pains her.

* * *

Chloe doesn’t even know why she puts up with Beca half the time.

But then Beca shoves her down on the bed and reminds her.

* * *

When Beca does it for the third time, Chloe snaps. She reaches across the counter and snatches the muffin Beca’s been eating, dragging her tongue across its surface.

“Dude, gross!” Beca shouts, yanking the plate back. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s the matter?” Chloe asks sweetly. “Last night you had no problem putting your tongue in my—”

“Okay, okay,” Beca says, holding up one hand (the other still protectively wrapped around the muffin). “You’ve made your point.”

“So you’ll stop?”

“Yes, I’ll stop,” Beca agrees. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

Without warning, Beca leans over and drags her tongue across Chloe’s lips, collecting the bits of crystallized sugar clinging there from the muffin.

And then she sits back down and continues to eat like nothing ever happened.

“Tease,” Chloe groans. Beca just winks, smirking.

Why does Chloe put up with her again?


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write a sad Bechloe one shot where Beca is dead but Chloe likes to think she is still with her everyday but when she is out she isn't her usual bubbly self she's closed off and quiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death

It’s been forty-one days.

Chloe wonders when she’s going to stop counting—at one hundred days? In a year? In five years?

At what point does a person become the past?

It’s this that Chloe fears the most: That one day she won’t be able to remember the feeling of Beca’s body entangled with hers, breath hot on her neck. That she’ll forget the sound of Beca’s laugh, nose scrunched cutely as she throws her head back. That she won’t be able to still smell traces of Beca’s perfume in the sheets she hasn’t washed in forty-one days.

Chloe wants to keep these memories as clear as the one she has of the two policemen at her apartment door, telling her that there’s been an accident. She’s desperate to forget the feeling of being punched in the stomach, falling to her knees at the realization that the love of her life has suddenly departed, never to return.

She wants to forget, but she knows she won’t.

* * *

Sometimes it’s easy to pretend.

When Chloe wakes in the morning—if she tries hard enough—she can still hear the evenness of Beca’s breathing, her body stretched lazily across the other side of the bed.

It’s the first thing she does every morning.

If she closes her eyes, seated at the table eating her cereal, she can still see Beca poking at the coffee maker, grumbling about wanting her coffee sooner rather than later.

When Chloe showers, she can still feel Beca’s fingers sliding through her hair, massaging shampoo against her scalp.

She still sings to herself as she gets dressed, imagining the sweet sound of Beca’s harmonizing.

Beca’s toothbrush still sits in the holder in the bathroom, and there’s an old t-shirt of hers draped over a chair in the bedroom, where she had left it forty-two days ago.

Chloe can’t bring herself to disturb any of it, because it means letting go of that last part of her that still believes that Beca will return that night, their takeout order in her arms.

She still finds herself composing text messages to Beca (whose number she hasn’t deleted from her contacts, although the smashed remnants of Beca’s phone probably sit in a junkyard somewhere with the rest of her car)—ideas for mixes, stupid puns,  _When are you coming home?_

Sometimes she purposely leaves her shoes in a heap by the door—something that annoyed Beca to no end—just so she can remember her annoyed huffs as she passive-aggressively lines them up neatly on the mat.

Other times Chloe collapses in the living room, sobs wracking her body, praying to feel Beca’s arms around her one last time.

It’s getting harder to remember, and Chloe feels empty inside.

* * *

She took a week off from classes, forcing herself to keep up from home, before she felt that she might suffocate if she had to spend one more minute in her apartment.

Sometimes class is a welcome distraction, something other than her memories of Beca to focus on.

Other times—like when one of Chloe’s classmates says something particularly stupid, and she pulls out her phone to surreptitiously text Beca—it’s unbearable.

She still goes to Bellas practices. Sometimes the rehearsal space makes her feel closer to Beca.

(Sometimes it makes her feel like she’s drowning.)

She stands quietly by Cynthia Rose and Fat Amy, who have essentially become the interim captains, smiling a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The girls have been wonderful to her—bringing her food, holding her when she cries, offering to spend nights with her when the loneliness is overwhelming.

Chloe loves them, doesn’t know what she’d do without them. But sometimes their concern is just another reminder that something is very, very wrong.

She sings, but occasionally a song will trigger a memory of Beca and her throat closes.

They still invite her to their movie nights and spa days, but the thought of watching a movie without Beca curled around her seems impossible.

Chloe knows they’re worried about her, and she appreciates it. But they remind her of reality, and she doesn’t want to live in reality.

She’d rather pretend.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can your write one where Chloe is dating a guy but she's in love with Beca and one night she cuddles with Beca then her bf walks in

Cuddling is their thing.

Other friends send each other photos of random stuff, or go to Chipotle every Thursday, or go to the gym together.

Okay, so they do all that stuff, too.

But cuddling is their  _thing_ thing.

It’s not that Chloe doesn’t cuddle with Tom. They adhere to all of the requisite cuddling standards (watching movies on the couch, after sex). There just isn’t a lot of unstructured, cuddling-for-no-reason cuddling (which, Chloe thinks, is the best  _kind_ of cuddling). 

There’s an awful lot of cuddling-for-no-reason cuddling with Beca.

They cuddle on Chloe’s crappy twin bed in her room in the Bellas house, Beca’s laptop playing an episode of  _Private Practice_ on Netflix. (The odd thing about Beca is that she won’t watch movies, but she  _will_ binge-watch entire seasons of television shows.)

They cuddle on the couch in the living room, Beca’s head on Chloe’s lap, working on a mix on her laptop balanced on her stomach. 

Sometimes—okay, a lot of the time—Chloe sleeps with Beca in her bed, Chloe’s head on Beca’s chest as the sound of her even breathing lulls her to sleep.

There are distinct differences between cuddling with Tom and cuddling with Beca. For one thing, Tom is about a foot taller than Beca, and decidedly much harrier. His touch is rough and strong rather than soft and delicate, and he doesn’t hum (or occasionally badly beatbox) under his breath. 

His breath doesn’t send shivers down Chloe’s spine. His touch doesn’t set Chloe’s skin on fire. His mere  _presence_ doesn’t still the breath in Chloe’s lungs and make her heart beat twice as fast.

She would never admit it, but Chloe much prefers being wrapped Beca’s arms to her boyfriend’s.

(It kind of makes her feel like a terrible person.)

* * *

 

It’s at the end of a particularly stressful day that Chloe just needs some Beca time. Technically, she’s supposed to go to a movie with Tom tonight, but she really just wants to put on sweatpants and eat chips and get her Shonda Rhimes on.

She cancels on Tom, saying that she doesn’t feel well, and climbs into bed, her head tucked into the space between Beca’s neck and shoulder, Beca’s arms encircling her waist.

They don’t really talk, just click the next episode periodically when one ends. Beca absently runs her fingers through Chloe’s hair. (It kind of makes Chloe’s chest hurt.)

Suddenly, the door to Chloe’s room bangs open, and they both jump, nearly knocking the laptop off of the bed. Tom stands in the doorway, and he doesn’t look happy.

“Really, Chloe?” he half-shouts, and Beca’s arms tighten slightly around Chloe. “ _Sick_ , huh?”

“How… how did you get in here?” Chloe asks, sitting up more fully. A surreptitious glance at her phone reveals two missed calls and several text messages, one of which reads  _Are you okay?_

“You said you didn’t feel well and then you didn’t answer any of my calls or texts,” Tom says, and Chloe’s stomach churns guiltily. “So I came by. Amy let me in. And then I come in to find you all cozied up with someone else.” He says the last sentence rather bitterly, his lips curling.

“Whoa, dude, we weren’t—” Beca cuts in.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to hear from you right now,” Tom snaps.

“HEY,” Chloe shouts, and Tom looks startled. “Don’t speak to her like that.”

“Well, when your girlfriend blows you off to lie in bed with someone else, it kind of pisses you off.” Tom’s yelling now (and Chloe just  _knows_ that the other Bellas are just around the corner, listening in).

Something inside Chloe snaps—nobody speaks like that to Beca and gets away with it. “Well, I’m sorry that when I’ve had a shitty day I want to spend time with the person I love, sorry that isn’t you!”

There’s a moment of dead silence, followed by several gasps and a squeal from somewhere down the hall (goddammit, can anyone in this house mind their own business?). 

“The person you… love?” Tom says slowly, and Chloe’s mouth drops open when she realizes what she’s just said (or, rather, shouted).

She should apologize—she should send Beca out of the room, apologize to Tom and assure him he’s the one she wants to be with.

“Um,” she says instead.

“You know what?” Tom says, kind of half-laughing, although it’s devoid of any humor. “I’m done with this.” And then he bangs out of the room in a similar fashion to his entrance, slamming the door behind him.

Chloe has to give him points for drama.

Chloe stands there for a moment before she realizes that Beca is kind of in the room and heard the whole exchange. She closes her eyes and braces herself for Beca’s reaction when she hears, “I love you, too.”

Chloe whips around, not sure she heard correctly, but Beca is just sitting there very demurely, like Chloe didn’t kind of end her relationship and profess her love for Beca in one breath.

“I…” Chloe starts. “Um. Were you—were you ever gonna  _tell_ me or…?”

Beca shrugs one shoulder. “You had a boyfriend.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t anymore,” Chloe says. And she can’t help it—she laughs.

“You’re an idiot,” Beca says, but she’s laughing, too.

“Yes, but I’m your idiot.” Chloe launches herself onto the bed, and Beca squeals in surprise. “Forever.”

Somewhere down the hall, several people break out into applause and cheers.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write one where in PP2 when beca got into the bear trap she accidentally said I love you at Chloe instead of I love you guys

Beca is going to  _sue_ Aubrey.

Well, maybe she’ll slap her first. But then she’s suing her ass.

(Even if she dies, she’ll rise from the damn dead just to see her in court.)

Honestly, Beca’s surprised it hasn’t happened already, what with these bear traps  _everywhere_. And, really, how are they supposed to hold a bear if they can’t even hold all 110 pounds of her?

Oh, speaking of that—

“Ahhhh!” Beca screeches, deciding that the time for playing it cool has long since passed. “I’m dying! I’m dying!”

She honestly thinks it’s some kind of prank or weird team-building exercise at first, but then the net drops  _again_ and the panicked looks on everyone’s faces lets her know that—yeah—she’s about to die.

It’s strange, and probably kind of inappropriate, but her first thought is  _Who is going to feed my fish?_  Until she remembers the, you know, real people in her life (most of whom happen to be standing right below her).

“I’m sorry about everything I said!” Beca shouts, clinging to the net. “I’ve just been so stressed. I love all of you awesome nerds and I love being a Bella!”

The Bellas scramble around underneath her, telling Beca they’re going to catch her, but she can feel the net giving way, and at this point she surmises she’s got about ten seconds left to live.

“I love you, Chloe!” she yells. “I’m sorry I never told you. I love you!” 

Oh. Oops. She didn’t mean to let that slip.

(Whatever, she’ll be dead in three… two… one…)

For a heart-stopping moment after the net gives way, Beca feels weightless. Until gravity kicks back in and she lands in a heap on top of Fat Amy (who really isn’t all that cushy) with a  _THUMP_.

And that’s how Beca finds herself flat on her back on the ground, blinking up at the sky, with quite a big problem.

Because she didn’t die.

But she  _did just kind of_ confess her love for Chloe.

Fuck.

* * *

She doesn’t get Chloe alone until much later in the day (probably because Beca’s avoiding her), as all the other girls are cleaning themselves up or helping Aubrey build a campfire.

Chloe crawls into the tent where Beca is digging in her bag for a clean t-shirt, zipping the flap shut behind her.

“Hey,” Chloe says simply.

“Um.” Beca looks up from the bag. “Hello.”

They stare at each other for a few long moments, and Beca can’t help but think how unfairly pretty Chloe is (like, all the time), even after a long day of dragging themselves through ridiculous exercises.

“So,” Chloe starts, and Beca can feel her palms begin to sweat. “About earlier—”

“We can just pretend it didn’t happen,” Beca cuts in, because she  _really_ doesn’t feel like talking about this. “I thought I was going to die, so I wasn’t really thinking straight.” She laughs nervously. “We can just pretend it didn’t happen,” she repeats.

Chloe looks at her for a long moment, biting her lip. “Well, can I tell you something before we decide whether to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“Okay,” Beca agrees quietly.

“I love you, too.”

“Wait, what?” Beca knows her mouth is slightly agape (and it’s probably really unattractive), and for a moment she wonders if she actually  _did_ die, and this is what hell looks like.

“I love you, too,” Chloe says again. “Now do you want to pretend it didn’t happen?”

“I. Um.” Beca’s brain isn’t quite working, because Chloe keeps saying  _I love you_ and is rapidly crawling nearer. “No?”

“Good,” Chloe says, smirking in a way that makes Beca’s stomach knot.

And then Chloe kisses her.

Like, an actual, full-on, fingers-tangled-in-Beca’s-hair, minor-tongue-action-involved  _kiss_. Beca would probably describe it as passionate, if she didn’t refuse to use that word (in  _any_ context).

So, it’s still entirely possible that Beca died and is now in hell.

But it’s not so bad.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for a drabble: based on Dolly Parton's song Jolene where Beca is dating Stacie and Stacie can see that Chloe and Beca belong

Beca is probably the last person Stacie expected to find herself dating.

Even more surprising: She’s actually  _dating_ someone. Like, the monogamous kind. No-threesomes, not-even-if-you’re-drunk-and-Beca’s-not-available-emergency-sex  _dating_.

Stacie isn’t totally sure how she found herself here in the first place. Well, she does know it started at a party. Beca, drunk off her ass, came out of nowhere, hopped up on a chair, and kissed her. And it’s not like Stacie was gonna say  _no_ —Beca’s hot, and Stacie never declines a hot person’s tongue down her throat.

In retrospect, Stacie remembers passing Chloe and Tom, attached at the mouth, as Beca practically dragged her away from the party back to the Bellas house.

She particularly remembers the lingering look Beca cast at Chloe on their way out.

It’s strange dating someone half a foot shorter than her; Stacie’s tall, but she’s still not used to being the big spoon, or having to wear flats when they go out on dates. 

It’s definitely different dating a girl, but, surprisingly, Stacie likes the feel of Beca wrapped up in her arms. It makes her feel strong. Important. She keeps her nails short and cuddles with Beca while they watch terrible movies, and she’s happy.

There’s just one issue.

Stacie’s pretty sure Beca’s got a thing for Chloe.

She’s always suspected it—hell, there was a period of time she honestly thought they were dating.

There’s little things—a wistful look as they pass Chloe and Tom hanging out on campus, a shiver as Chloe brushes against Beca, and Stacie’s caught her quite a few times staring at Chloe’s ass.

And then there was the time Beca came with Chloe’s name on her tongue.

It makes Stacie wonder if she’s just a distraction.

She watches as Chloe goes out of her way to “help” Beca with choreography in a very  _hands-on_ way, or give Beca one of her signature mega-watt smiles just for walking in the room, or watch Beca and Stacie kiss hello with a sad look in her eyes.

It’s why she finally decides to break things off with Beca. Because Stacie isn’t anyone’s second choice.

She intends to let her down easy, without bluntly saying, “I know you’re in love with Chloe.”

It’s the thought that counts, right?

“I… Um…” Beca’s mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out for a moment, face rapidly reddening. “What?”

“I see the way you look at her,” Stacie says, and it’s hard to keep the hurt out of her voice.

“I’m sorry,” Beca says, quietly, after a moment. She scrunches her hands in her hair and sighs. “I really thought I could move on and make it work with you, Stacie.”

She looks at Stacie with such sad eyes that Stacie believes her.

“I know,” Stacie says, placing a hand on her now-ex girlfriend’s arm. “Just do me one favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell her.”

* * *

It hurts less as time passes.

Actually, jazzing it up a bit, it’s a pretty epic love story.

Stacie recounts the tale, which she’s titled “The Bechloe Origin Story,” to Legacy on her second night in the house.

Emily eats it up, of course, periodically glancing over with wide eyes to Beca and Chloe, who lie tangled with each other on the couch, a fond smile on each of their faces.

Sometimes she still misses Beca, just a little bit. But they’re grossly cute together, so Stacie doesn’t really mind.

She’d miss having threesomes way more, anyway.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet for someone on ff.net, who wanted angst involving confused idiot!Beca unintentionally hurting Chloe’s feelings.

She won’t admit it, but Beca’s afraid of a handful of things.

Heights, for one. (Well, less so of  _being_  up high as she is of  _falling_  from said height.) Daddy longlegs. (Run-of-the-mill spiders she can handle pretty well, but there’s something about the insect that creeps her the fuck out.) Blood. Driving over eighty miles per hour. Thunderstorms put her on edge.

But the day Beca realizes she’s falling in love with her best friend?

That’s scarier than all her fears combined.

It’s a testament to her emotionally stunted nature that it takes her three years to realize that she has more-than-platonic feelings for Chloe.

In retrospect, it’s obvious: The way she would fall asleep tangled in Chloe’s arms after a late-night television-show marathon, secretly wishing the sun wouldn’t rise the next day. How Chloe’s smile releases butterflies in her stomach. How she would get irrationally irritated whenever another guy would hit on Chloe when they went out.

Beca thought those feelings were just protectiveness, but she now suspects that they were jealousy.

She’s kind of an idiot.

It’s not until a hushed whisper of “I wish I had experimented more in college” in a tent full of girls, Chloe’s lips inches away from Beca’s face, does it hit her.

Because suddenly, Beca  _wants_  to be that experiment like she has never wanted anything before.

The realization hits her, and it hits her  _hard_ , like she’s been punched in the stomach.

She needs space, but she’s obviously not going to get that here, in this tent—so instead she hisses back, “You’re  _so_  weird,” and quickly turns over.

Beca doesn’t really sleep that night.

* * *

This is what Beca knows:

She has  _feelings_  for Chloe.

She has a boyfriend.

Chloe probably doesn’t feel the same way.

If she loses Chloe’s friendship it will destroy her.

* * *

Beca decides to break things off with Jesse a few days later.

She genuinely does care about him; next to Chloe, he’s probably her closest friend. But she figures it’s unfair to both of them to continue the relationship when Beca can’t kiss him without imagining his lips were Chloe’s.

She doesn’t tell him  _that_ , of course, but the breakup is about as amiable as it can be.

He deserves someone who looks at him the way Beca wishes Chloe would look at her.

* * *

Beca needs some space to sort out her feelings and decide exactly how to deal with them. She’s definitely not going to tell Chloe.

Luckily, avoidance is Beca’s specialty.

Except it’s kind of hard to avoid someone when she lives with you and you spend practically every waking (and many sleeping) hour together.

Beca hides out in the library between classes, tucked away in the most reclusive corner she can find, hunched over her laptop and headphones clamped over her ears.

She finds herself weaving “Torn” into the mix she’s working on.

She doesn’t let herself think too hard about it.

That evening when Chloe knocks on her door, laptop in one hand and a bag of Cheetos in the other, Beca declines while avoiding eye contact, claiming exhaustion.

Chloe accepts her excuse and leaves, and Beca lies in bed staring at the ceiling until her eyes fall shut.

* * *

The thing about breaking up with Jesse is that Beca can’t exactly invite herself over for a sleepover anymore.

And she can’t tell him  _why_  she wants to hide out in the Treblemakers’ house without getting into the Chloe thing—and she definitely doesn’t want to talk about the Chloe thing with him. Or anyone else, really.

Also, Jesse probably doesn’t have any helpful advice on how to suppress your romantic feelings so you don’t fuck up your relationship with your best friend.

* * *

The next night, Beca tells Chloe that she  _really_  needs to work on a very important mix for her internship boss and can’t afford any distractions.

She keeps seeing the flicker of hurt cross Chloe’s face long after she leaves Beca alone as she absently presses the same note over and over on the keyboard on her screen.

Amy gives her a strange look and mutters something about how Beca and Chloe should “just pash already,” but Beca doesn’t know what that means so she leaves it alone.

* * *

The evening after, Chloe doesn’t give Beca a chance to give an excuse, walking right into the room and sitting on Beca’s bed.

They sit in silence for a moment before Chloe asks, “Are you mad at me?” in a voice so small and vulnerable it makes Beca’s heart hurt.

“No,” Beca says quickly. “No, not at all.”

“But you’re avoiding me.” Chloe bites her lip, looking on the verge of tears, and Beca wants to punch herself in the face.

“I’ve just been busy,” Beca lies, but she’s always been a terrible liar and Chloe doesn’t look convinced.

“If you don’t want to hang out with me or talk to me or—” Chloe’s voice cracks, and she clears her throat. “Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can make it better.”

Beca feels her resolve crumbling. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She reaches over and takes Chloe’s hand, ignoring the way her soft skin tingles against her own. “It’s just me being… stupid.”

“You can tell me anything,” Chloe says quietly, bringing her hand to rest against Beca’s face.

Beca squeezes her eyes shut, Chloe’s touch setting her face on fire. “I can't… I don't…”

She’s stuttering like an idiot, Chloe’s thumb gently brushing over her cheek making her senses fuzzy. “I don’t know how to be your friend anymore.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, because Chloe quickly retracts her hand with a broken gasp.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Beca rushes to say, kicking herself internally. “That came out totally wrong.”

Chloe looks at her skeptically, eyes wounded. “Then what the fuck  _did_  you mean?”

Beca sighs. She’s made her bed, and now she has to lie in it. “I have… feelings…” she says, looking at the wall, the bed, the floor—anywhere but Chloe’s eyes. “For you. That aren't… friendly.”

There’s a moment of agonizing silence. The Chloe huffs, “You’re an idiot.”

Beca snaps her head up, meeting Chloe’s eyes.  _Wha—?_

And then Chloe surges forward, gripping the front of Beca’s shirt in her fist, and connects their lips.

For a moment, Beca freezes, not quite believing her reality.

_Do something, you idiot._

And then she kisses her back—forcefully, passionately, and with all the frustration of the last three and a half yers.

“Oh,” Beca breathes against Chloe’s lips when they part. “Okay.”

Chloe just smirks.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe prompt on their wedding day Beca in a suit please singing beautiful in white by Westlife on their first wedding dance

Beca refuses to wear a dress to her wedding for two reasons.

One: She hates wearing dresses. As someone who likes to sit with her legs tucked underneath her, or to climb over the back of the couch so she doesn’t have to go around, or to kick her feet up on the closest available surface, she prefers to live her life without the fear of accidentally flashing someone.

(Beca knows first-hand how disastrous  _that_ can be.)

Two: She wants all eyes to be on her beautiful wife-to-be as she walks down the aisle in her gown.

Bonus: She looks pretty damn good in a suit.

Chloe had insisted on them not seeing each other before the wedding, and Beca was nearly bowled over when she saw her fiancée gliding down the aisle in a strapless, A-line gown with flowered detailing, hair in a simple but elegant updo, skin glowing and smile radiant.

It’s a good thing they’re only getting married once, because Beca’s not sure she would survive another one.

Beca pinches herself at least five separate times between the beginning of the ceremony and the reception, certain that she’s dreaming as she leads her wife—her  _wife_ —by the hand to the dance floor.

The band begins to play and Chloe settles a hand on Beca’s waist, clasping her free hand in Beca’s, smiling so beatifically Beca wants to pinch herself again.

Their feet begin moving in time to the music as the guests look on. Beca takes a deep breath, opens her mouth and—much to Chloe’s surprise—begins to sing.

 _“Not sure if you know this_  
But when we first met  
I got so nervous I couldn’t speak  
In that very moment  
I found the one and  
My life had found its missing piece.”

Chloe gasps quietly before letting out a happy laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound Beca’s ever heard.

 _“So as long as I live I love you_  
Will have and hold you  
You look so beautiful in white  
And from now til my very last breath  
This day I’ll cherish  
You look so beautiful in white  
Tonight.”

Someone—probably Jesse—lets out a whoop as Beca dips Chloe, pressing her palm into the soft skin of her exposed back so as not to drop her.

 _“What we have is timeless_  
My love is endless  
And with this ring I  
Say to the world  
You’re my every reason  
You’re all that I believe in  
With all my heart I mean every word.”

Beca twirls Chloe, her wife’s dress fanning out around her as she spins, and Beca can’t help but think that she’s married a real-life Disney princess.

 _“So as long as I live I love you_  
Will have and hold you  
You look so beautiful in white  
And from now til my very last breath  
This day I’ll cherish  
You look so beautiful in white  
Tonight.”

The band plays their final strains of music, leaving Beca to finish the song a cappella (for old time’s sake).

 _“Oooh, oh._  
You look so beautiful in white  
So beautiful in white  
Tonight.”

When she finishes holding the final note, the guests burst into cheers and applause. 

They kiss, soft and sweet, and when Chloe pulls back Beca sees she has happy tears running down her cheeks.

“I love you,” Chloe says, and Beca returns the sentiment, leading Chloe off the dance floor by the hand. But somehow Beca’s heel gets caught in the train of Chloe’s dress, sending her sprawling on the floor.

She’s uninjured (save for her pride), and laughs it off as she sits down next to her wife.

Thank God she was wearing a suit.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe accidentally breaks Beca’s headphones and Beca starts to get mad but then Chloe does puppy dog eyes so she doesn’t get mad?

Oh fuck.

Oh  _fuck_.

Chloe looks down at the red-and-black Beats headphones in her hands.

Or, rather, what  _were_  Beca’s favorite,  _very expensive_ headphones. Until Chloe stepped on them.

Really, the way Beca had carelessly left them on the floor of her bedroom was basically  _asking_  for this to happen. So it’s not  _totally_  Chloe’s fault, right?

She doubts Beca would agree, though.

There’s only one logical solution to this situation: She has to flee the country.

Okay, maybe that’s a tad dramatic. And expensive. And has a lot of overhead.

She’ll just have to figure out how to avoid Beca until she can buy her a new pair of headphones. And find a spare $300.

Chloe goes downstairs to the kitchen and gathers enough food for at least a day—some bread, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of chips, an apple—and surreptitiously sneaks back up the stairs to her little single room on the third floor. Or, rather, she tries to.

“Whoa there,” Amy says as Chloe nearly bowls her over in the hallway. She eyes the food in Chloe’s arms. “Six more weeks of winter?”

“Oh, um,” Chloe says, shifting on her feet. “Just preparing for those late-night cravings, you know?”

“It’s four o'clock,” Amy comments, eyebrows raised slightly.

Chloe doesn’t even try to come up with an excuse, instead brushing past Amy and telling her, “I’ve got… stuff to do, so you’ll have to excuse me.”

Amy gives her kind of a funny look, but salutes her with an “Aye aye, captain.”

* * *

“Chloe’s pregnant,” Amy announces to the Bella-filled living room after her brief conversation with Chloe.

“Wait,  _what_?!” Cynthia Rose exclaims.

“Did she tell you?” Jessica—Ashley?—asks from where’s she’s sitting with her feet propped up in Ashley's—Jessica’s?—lap.

“No,” Amy says, falling into a chair. “But I just passed her on the stairs carrying, like, enough food for five people. She said she’s having  _cravings_.” Amy raises her eyebrows knowingly.

“You realize that that doesn’t mean that she’s preg—” Cynthia Rose starts to say, but is cut off.

“I always thought Stacie would be the first one to get pregnant,” Flo says, then quickly adds, “No offense.”

Stacie, filing her nails on one end of the couch, just shrugs. “Me, too.”

“Wait, this means we’re all going to be aunts!” Emily squeals, clapping her hands.

“Guys—” Cynthia Rose tries again.

“We are going to throw her the most  _epic_  baby shower,” Stacie says, rummaging through the stack of magazines and catalogs on the coffee table until she finds one from Oriental Trading Company.

Cynthia Rose just sighs.

* * *

Chloe’s holed up in her room, trying to figure out exactly where she’s going to find $300 when the door bangs open, revealing Beca.

“Why are all of the Bellas downstairs planning your baby shower?” Beca asks nervously. Her hair is slightly disheveled and she still has her bag slung over one should and her internship ID badge clipped to her shirt.

“What?” Chloe asks, confused. She’s almost positive she’s not pregnant.

“Everyone is downstairs in the living room around a bunch of catalogs—” Beca stops abruptly, staring at something on Chloe’s bed.

Shit.

Of  _course_  she left the broken headphones in plain sight.

“I can explain,” Chloe says quickly, which probably makes her look even more guilty.

Beca steps forward and picks up the broken headphones, cradling them in her hands like a baby. “What the fuck, Chloe?”

“It was an accident,” Chloe rushes to say, insides twisting. “I went into your room to steal back my sweatshirt that you borrowed and they were on the floor and…” She trails off, shrinking back at the firm line of Beca’s mouth. “Are you mad?” she asks in a small voice.

“I…” Beca starts to say, but stops when she sees the look on Chloe’s face. “Come on, Chlo, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Chloe asks, playing up the pout, crossing her fingers behind her back.

Beca groans, flopping down on the bed. “No, I’m not mad.”

“Really?” Chloe brushes the stray hairs that fall across Beca’s face back into alignment.

“Really,” Beca says, closing her eyes as Chloe runs her fingers through her hair. “But you’re helping me pay for new ones.”

“Fair enough.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a chapter with Emily in it? Maybe mixed feelings or something like that.

“You can’t just add someone to the Bellas without consulting me first!” Beca huffs, looking across the pool to where Emily is doing some strange dance move by herself at the edge of the crowd.

“Well, then, maybe you should have been there,” Chloe counters, propping her feet up on the table in front of them.

“You know I had to be at my internship.” Beca stacks her feet into Chloe’s lap.

Chloe hums. “She’s a legacy, Beca. We had no choice.”

“Yeah, see, I’m pretty sure that isn’t a thing,” Beca says, taking a sip of her drink.

“She can sing and this is the only way we’re going to get any new blood,” Chloe says, trailing her finger around the rim of her cup. “And she writes music.”

“How helpful to a group that only sings covers,” Beca drawls.

“Shut up,” Chloe scolds, slapping at Beca’s foot. “Here she comes,” she hisses. “Be nice.”

“Hi!” Emily squeals, rounding the corner of the pool and standing in front of them, hands fidgeting nervously with the front of her shirt.

“Hey,” Beca says with as much fake enthusiasm as she can muster.

“Hi Emily,” Chloe says. “This is Beca.”

“I know,” Emily gushes. “I am so excited to meet the woman who single-handedly created the Bella sound!”

“Oh. Um. Thanks.”

“And I think it’s so cool that you two are together,” Emily continues. “Partners in a cappella and in life.”

Beca raises her eyebrows and looks at Chloe with a  _do you hear this shit?_  look on her face.

She’s always hated the term “partners"—you don’t have hot shower sex with the person you’re paired with in chemistry class.

(Well, you might. But the point still stands.)

"I have so many ideas for the set list,” Emily continues.

“Great,” Chloe says with the smile that’s usually reserved for Beca. (It makes her kind of annoyed.) “We can talk about it at practice.”

“Okay!” Emily beams at Beca and Chloe. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” She gives them a little wave before walking away.

“Don’t give me that look,” Chloe says without even looking at Beca.

“She’s happy and weird,” Beca says, watching Emily speak to a rather inebriated Stacie, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“I’m happy and weird,” Chloe reminds her with a grin. “And you love me.”

Beca shrugs, because she can’t really deny that. “As long as she doesn’t barge in on my shower.”

“Oh, she better not.”


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Beca and Chloe end up having a cute tickle fight over something and end up falling for each other?

“Beca.”

“Just a minute, Chlo.”

“That’s what you’ve been saying for the last fifteen minutes.”

“I’m almost done,” Beca says absently, lip caught between her teeth as she clicks away at her laptop, faint strains of music leaking out of her headphones.

Chloe checks the time on her phone— _again_ —and huffs, propping her chin on her hand. “It’s almost eight o’clock. I’m hungry.”

“Mmm,” Beca says, but otherwise gives no indication she’s heard Chloe.

Chloe’s stomach growls again. “ _Beca_ ,” she complains again, scooting up further on the bed to poke at Beca’s knee.

Beca jumps, knocking her laptop askew. “Don’t do that! It tickles.”

Chloe’s eyes light up mischievously, experimentally squeezing Beca’s knee.

“Chloe!” Beca squeals, a laugh escaping her lips. “You’re gonna make me lose my place,” she scolds, trying to squirm out of Chloe’s reach.

“Then save it and put down the computer.” 

“Just give me another minute,” Beca tells her, holding up a finger.

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe says lowly, and Beca  _really_ doesn’t like the predatory glint in her eyes. “Put down the laptop. Or else.”

The defiant “Or else what?” barely makes it out of Beca’s mouth before Chloe pounces, pinning Beca to the bed, knocking the laptop out of the way in the process, and digs her fingertips into Beca’s sides.

“Chloe!” Beca thrashes on the bed, trying to escape her, but the warning tone Chloe assumes she’s aiming for is lost in her laughter.

“Are you going to put down your computer?” Chloe asks, moving her fingers up to Beca’s armpits. 

Beca can barely gasp out an answer, she’s laughing so hard. Her face is turning a rather alarming shade of red, and Chloe eases her motions. “Yes,” Beca wheezes. “Jesus Christ, Chlo.”

“Maybe you should have listened to me the first time,” Chloe says, still hovering above Beca on the bed, the younger girl’s chest still heaving. 

Wait—is she imagining things, or did Beca’s eyes just flick to her lips?

Chloe licks her lips experimentally, and—yep, she definitely didn’t imagine that.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Beca says, still looking a bit worried that Chloe will resume her tickle attack.

“Like what?” Chloe’s eyes flick down to Beca’s lips, briefly, and then back up to her eyes.

“Like  _that_ ,” Beca says, and Chloe suddenly realizes the rather intimate positioning of their bodies—legs tangled, one of Chloe’s knees between Beca’s, their faces inches apart.

Chloe can feel the warmth of Beca’s breath on her mouth, and it makes all the hair on her body stand on end.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chloe says, her voice low.

They’ve been dancing around this for months now—teasing brushes, meaningful looks, something Stacie calls eye sex (Chloe’s a bit confused on the concept). Chloe can’t gauge if it’s just Beca being socially inept or there are actually  _feelings_  involved.

God forbid Beca Mitchell ever talk about her feelings.

But here Beca is, pinned underneath her, eyes on her lips and breathing unsteadily, and Chloe doesn’t know if she’ll get this chance again.

It seems to take an eternity to close the few inches that separate them, and it makes Chloe feel stupid for waiting this long in the first place.

The first brush of their lips is gentle, hesitant—Chloe pauses a moment to give Beca an opportunity to pull away or push her off.

But she doesn’t. So Chloe presses forward, more purposefully.

There are two possible scenarios Chloe had been expecting: Rejection or non-rejection.

Non-rejection certainly didn’t include Beca to kiss her back eagerly, opening her mouth at the very first brush of Chloe’s tongue. And it  _definitely_ didn’t include the moan that escapes Beca’s throat, like she’s been waiting for this and is  _finally_ letting go.

But she’s not arguing.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe soulmate AU where they have their soulmate's first words said to them tattooed on their arm or something

Beca’s not a romantic. Never has been, never will be. 

But she’ll be damned if the first words her so-called soulmate ever speaks to her are “Any interest in joining our a cappella group?”

She’s not even entirely sure what an a cappella group  _is_.

Most of the other people she knows have compliments or intellectual conversation-starters—and a handful of cheesy pickup lines that make Beca cringe whenever she catches a glimpse of them.

Still, she supposes it’s better than this kid she went to high school with, who has “Do you have a public restroom?” inked on his arm in black letters.

Beca’s never been terribly invested in this whole find-your-soulmate thing. It’s comforting to know she apparently has one, but she’ll find the person in due time. Plus, she’s got other things to worry about.

Like being forced to attend college.

(Although the knowledge that her future one-and-only is in an a cappella group is vaguely unsettling.)

Soulmates are far from her mind as she wanders the activities fair, brainstorming ways to get out of this whole college thing while still getting financial assistance from her dad to move to LA. 

And then she hears it. 

“Any interest in joining our a cappella group?” says a voice behind her, stopping Beca dead in her tracks.

She whips around to see two girls standing underneath a banner with the words “Barden Bellas” emblazoned across it.

Beca  _really_ hopes her soulmate is the hopeful-looking, puppy-dog-eyed redhead and not the blond who’s scowling at her hard enough to leave permanent wrinkles.

“Oh, right,” Beca says, tentatively taking the flier being unceremoniously shoved at her, “this is, like, a thing now.”

The girl holding out the flier—the redhead—quickly draws her arm back with a gasp, eyes flicking from her arm to Beca’s face before wordlessly turning her arm over for Beca to read the ink inscribed there.

And, yeah, having “Any interest in joining our a cappella group?” tattooed on her arm for eighteen years isn’t ideal, at least it wasn’t “This is, like, a thing now.”

And Chloe?

Well, she’s worth the hassle.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt based on song of Stacy's Mom where it's established Bechloe and Beca is best friends with Stacie and Chloe is her single Mum who Stacie still thinks she isn't dating anyone

“What did you get for number three?”

“What?” Beca asks, tearing her eyes away and hoping that Stacie didn’t notice that she’d been watching her mother unloading the dishwasher for the last five minutes.

“What did you get for number three?” Stacie repeats, tapping the math textbook that lies spread open between them on the table.

“Oh.” Beca scans her notebook page. “Twelve.”

“Really?” Stacie frowns confusedly. “Because I got—”

“Sweetie,” Stacie’s mother, Chloe, interrupts. “I’m going to run out to the grocery store.” She looks at Beca as she says this, but Stacie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, Mom.”

“Actually,” Beca says, pretending to check the time on her phone, “I should get going. My dad will want me home for dinner.” She begins stuffing her books into her backpack, standing as she does so.

“Okay,” Stacie says. “We’re still studying for the test tomorrow, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca tells her.

“Do you want a ride home?” Chloe asks, looking at Beca meaningfully. “I can drop you off on my way to the store.”

“That would be great, Mrs. Beale, thanks,” Beca says, shouldering her bag and following Chloe down the hall to the front door. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Chloe?” Chloe says, adding a lascivious wink once Stacie can’t see them.

“Shut up,” Beca hisses, rolling her eyes.

Once they’re safely in the car and around the block, Chloe cuts the engine and turns to Beca with a predatory glint in her eye. She unbuckles her seatbelt and leans across the gear shift to fist her hand in Beca’s shirt in one swift motion, fusing their mouths together.

“Stacie… still… doesn’t know?” Beca asks breathlessly as Chloe drags her mouth down the column of her throat, pausing to suck on her pulse point.

Chloe pulls back just far enough to look into Beca’s eyes. (Beca swallows hard at how dilated her pupils are.) “Are you sure this is what you want to talk about right now?” she asks lowly, one finger teasingly drifting across Beca’s collarbones, the younger girl’s skin burning wherever she touches.

“Never mind,” Beca says, tangling a hand in Chloe’s hair and bringing her lips back to hers. She can feel Chloe smirk against her mouth.

“That’s what I thought.”

* * *

“Wait, but if x is equal to the square root of y, then why is—”

“Stacie?” Chloe says, knocking lightly on the door and poking her head into the room. 

“Yeah, mom?”

Chloe holds up a pair of flowered boyshorts. “I was doing laundry. Are these yours?”

Stacie frowns, shaking her head. “No,” she says, sounding confused.

“Then whose—” Chloe cuts herself abruptly when she notices how red Beca is turning, motioning to herself discreetly from behind Stacie. “Oh!” Chloe says, a little too loudly. “You know what? These  _are_ mine. Sorry!” She exits quickly, shutting the door.

“That was weird,” Stacie comments, turning back to her notebook. 

Beca just shrugs, willing the heat on her face to die down.

They have  _got_ to be more careful.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca being a badass jock but is afraid to ask Chloe out.

“Man, that call was total bullshit,” Cynthia Rose complains, wiping her brow with a towel.

“Yeah, the ref totally didn’t know what he was doing,” Stacie agrees, slinging her bag over her shoulder, basketball under one arm. “What do you think, Beca?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked you what you thought about the call,” Stacie says, smirking a little when she sees where Beca’s gaze has been.

“Oh. Um, it was stupid.” Beca tears her eyes away from the redheaded cheerleader across the gym to briefly meet Stacie’s eyes. The look on her face tells Beca she’s been caught, and she feels her face flush.

“Just ask her out already,” Cynthia Rose tells her, making Beca blush harder. “You’ve been staring at her like a creep for months.”

“I have not,” Beca denies, crossing her arms, sneaking another glance over to Chloe, who is laughing about something with a couple of the other cheerleaders.

“Yes, you have,” Fat Amy says from her seat on the lowest bleacher. “You’re like a lion watching a gazelle. Just jump her already.”

“I can’t do that.” Beca looks over at Chloe again before picking up her bag.

“Why not?” Stacie asks.

“She's… she’s  _Chloe_. She probably doesn’t even know my name,” Beca mumbles, averting her eyes.

“Girl, of course she does,” Cynthia Rose says, clapping a hand on Beca’s shoulder. “You’re captain of the basketball team and she’s a  _cheerleader_. She knows who you are.”

“Yeah, she knows you’re good with balls,” Fat Amy says, holding her hands out palms-up like she’s holding a ball in each.

“Oh, my God.” Beca covers her face with her hands. “If I go talk to her, will you never say that again?”

“Go,” Cynthia Rose urges, gently pushing Beca in Chloe’s direction. “You can do this.”

“I can do this,” Beca repeats, mostly to herself, as she crosses the gym to the group of cheerleaders, stomach fluttering and hands shaking with nervousness.

She comes to a stop at the edge of the group, standing there kind of awkwardly until Chloe turns to her and smiles. (It doesn’t help Beca’s anxiety.) “Good game, Beca,” she says.

 _She knows my name!_  Beca thinks to herself.

“Yes, I know your name,” Chloe says, laughing. “Do you know mine?”

Beca reddens, realizing her internal monologue wasn’t quite so internal. “Yeah,” Beca says dumbly, wiping her sweaty palms on her shorts. “You’re Chloe.”

A beat passes. “Is there… something I can do for you?” Chloe asks, raising her eyebrows amusedly.

“Uh.”  _Don’t just stand there, you idiot._  “Do you like pizza?”

“Um, yeah,” Chloe answers, looking a little confused.

“With me,” Beca quickly clarifies, then kicks herself internally, realizing she’s making approximately zero sense.

Chloe looks at her for a moment; her lips part in surprise and then curl upward. “Are you asking me out?”

Beca twists the hem of her jersey in her hands nervously. “Um, yeah.”

Chloe breaks into a large smile, reaching out to grab one of Beca’s hands. It sets her skin on fire. “Okay.”

For a moment, Beca is sure she heard incorrectly. (Chloe holding her hand is also very distracting.) “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Chloe winks at her, and it’s a miracle Beca’s still standing.

“Wow,” Beca says, then flushes again, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I probably sound like an idiot.”

“No, you’re adorable,” Chloe tells her, raising her other hand to cup Beca’s cheek briefly before pulling away. “I’ll get changed and meet you back out here?”

Beca nods, not trusting her words to come out in anything other than a squeak.

She watches Chloe retreat into the locker room, unsure if she’s dreaming.

A yell of “Yeah, Beca, jump that antelope!” from across the gym tells her she isn’t.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe had a fight so now practices are really awkward because both are too stubborn to talk to each other

There are several things Emily expected when she became a Bella: Singing, dancing, a little bit of hazing, girl bonding, and competing.

She definitely did not expect to be trapped in a  _Groundhog Day_ -esqueepisode of The L Word.

Don’t get her wrong—Emily thinks Beca and Chloe are aca-adorable together. But they’re always fighting about something or other—choreography, arrangements, whether or not Beca returned a sweatshirt she borrowed from Chloe.

It makes practice kind of uncomfortable.

(Plus, Emily can literally  _smell_ the sexual frustration between them.)

She’s not even totally sure what they’re fighting about today, but Beca and Chloe are speaking to each other only through gritted teeth and overly pleasant smiles, moving around each other like separate entities, unlike the way they’re constantly brushing against each other when they’re on good terms.

(Sometimes it gives Emily whiplash. But hey—that’s love, right?)

The forced friendliness creates an awkward air, and all of the Bellas keep side-eyeing Beca and Chloe, as if waiting for an explosion.

It comes at the end of practice.

“Beca, have you made any progress on the set list for Worlds?” Chloe asks, her tone clipped and a fake smile on her face.

“I’ll get to it,” Beca gripes back, jamming her laptop into its case. “I’ve got, like, a million other important things to do.”

“This  _is_ important,” Chloe says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes, it’s  _soooo_ important,” Beca says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“It  _is_  important, Beca!” Chloe’s voice rises in volume. “Why don’t you take this seriously?”

“Jesus Christ, Chloe, I  _know_ ,” Beca snaps. “I  _am_ taking it seriously! I’ve just got a million other things to do,” she shouts, yanking her bad off of the top of the piano and storming off.

“Whoa,” Stacie whispers behind her as Emily watches Chloe stalk off in the other direction.

“Do you think they’re going to break up?” Emily asks concernedly, turning to Stacie and Fat Amy, who are packing up their things by the chairs.

“What?” Stacie looks confused, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Beca and Chloe,” Emily says. 

Fat Amy starts laughing, although Emily isn’t sure how this is funny. 

Realization dawns on Stacie. “They’re not—”

“Maybe,” Fat Amy cuts in, looking like she’s suppressing a smile. “You should probably talk to them, try to get them to tell each other how they feel.”

“Oh, yes,” Stacie says, her tone serious. “If they break up, it could hurt the team.”

“That could be really bad,” Emily agrees, nodding, already thinking of how to approach her surly captain without getting punched in the face. “And I would hate to see them break up. They’re so cute together.”

“You go get ‘em, Legacy,” Amy says, shouldering her bag. “The sooner the better.”

Emily turns to walk away, not seeing Stacie and Fat Amy share a high five behind her.

* * *

Emily gets to practice early the next day, hoping to catch Beca alone. She perches on the edge of one of the chairs, waiting until Beca dumps her stuff and begins to set up her mixing equipment before approaching her.

“Hi,” Emily says brightly. (She’s still not over the fact that she gets to sing alongside Beca effin’ Mitchell.)

“Hello,” Beca says, not looking up from her laptop.

“So.” Emily picks her words carefully, trying to express concern without seeming like she’s meddling. “Are you and Chloe… okay?”

That gets Beca’s attention. “Why?” she asks, her tone defensive as she looks at Emily warily.

“I’m know it’s not really any of my business,” Emily rushes to say, holding out her hands. “But you two are so great together, and I know you’re both stressed, but maybe you two should take some time together to just talk and work on your relationship because I want you two to be happy and I don’t want you to break up but the fighting could really hurt the team.” At this point, Emily realizes she’s rambling and abruptly closes her mouth.

“Wait, what?” Beca looks thoroughly confused, lips parted slightly. “Break up…? Emily, Chloe and I aren’t dating.”

“Wait, you’re not?” Now it’s Emily’s turn to be confused. “But Amy said—but you’re—are you sure?” she stammers, half to herself.

“I’m almost positive,” Beca deadpans, but then her eyes soften. “Look, Legacy, I know Chloe and I fight a lot. Like you said, we’re both stressed.”

“But…” Emily says, wanting to get back to the whole  _Beca and Chloe aren’t dating_ thing. “You two like each other, right? I see the way you look at her. There’s just so much”—Emily clenches her fist at the air—”tension.”

Beca shifts on her feet, rubbing at the back of her neck (which Emily notices is turning a little red). “I mean…” 

It’s enough of an answer for Emily. She squeals, grabbing Beca’s arm (which she quickly releases when Beca looks at her sharply—the girl still scares her a little bit). “You  _have_ to tell her,” she gushes.

“I don’t think so.” Beca averts her gaze, looking like she  _really_ doesn’t want to be having this conversation. 

“Why not?” Emily asks, feeling disappointed. She’d already starting brainstorming names for their future children.

“She probably doesn’t feel the same way,” Beca says lowly, twisting her rings around her fingers nervously.

“But—”

“What makes you think that?”

Both girls jump when they hear the voice. Emily whirls around to see Chloe approaching them, and quickly glances back at Beca, who looks like she might drop dead.

“Um,” is all Beca says, her voice unnaturally high.

Chloe comes closer, moving to stand right in front of Beca. She cups Beca’s chin, tilting her face so they’re making eye contact. “What if I told you I  _did_  feel the same way?” Chloe asks, and Emily can’t  _breathe_.

Beca opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but Chloe doesn’t give her a chance to. She leans in and places a gentle but definitely not platonic kiss on Beca’s lips before pulling back.

“Oh,” Beca whispers against Chloe’s lips, her eyes fluttering closed as Chloe presses their lips back together.

Emily’s mouth drops open, not quite believing what she’s seeing. She pumps her fist in excitement, not wanting to disturb Beca and Chloe by shouting, “Woooo!” although that’s what she feels like doing.

She hears cheers and applause behind her and turns to see the rest of the Bellas coming in the door. Fat Amy gives her a thumbs-up.

Beca and Chloe break apart, and Chloe hides a smile behind her hand as Beca reddens and mumbles a “Shut the fuck up.” (She looks rather pleased with herself though.)

Emily claps her hands, grinning. She can’t wait to tell her mom how she got the woman who single-handedly created the Bella sound laid.


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you going to write a part 2 of jock Beca and head cheerleader Chloe because my feels can't handle it

It occurs to Beca after a few minutes of standing dumbly outside of the locker room door that she should probably change out of her sweaty uniform.

She really needs to get her shit together—and quickly.

* * *

“Ready to go?”

Beca turns to see Chloe, hair down loose around her shoulders and smiling softly. _Does she even sweat?_ Beca thinks as she self-consciously touches her still-slightly-damp messy bun.

“Yeah,” Beca says, pushing open the side door of the gym that leads into the parking lot. “Do you need a ride or do you have your car?”

“I got a ride here, so if you don’t mind driving that would be great,” Chloe says as they cross the lot, arms brushing every so often in a way that makes Beca’s skin heat. The early evening is cool with a light breeze that wafts Chloe’s perfume in Beca’s direction distractingly.

When they reach Beca’s car, she unlocks it and opens the passenger side door for Chloe, causing the other girl to giggle. “What a gentleman,” Chloe says teasingly as she slides into the seat, winking.

Beca pauses before starting the car, taking a deep breath and saying a quick prayer that she doesn’t crash it.

“Are you nervous, Beca?” Chloe asks quietly.

“Um,” Beca mumbles, deciding to be honest, “yes, a bit.”

“Don’t be.” Chloe reaches over and squeezes Beca’s hand briefly. (It’s a nice gesture, but it doesn’t really help her nerves.) “It’s just me.”

 _That’s the problem_ , Beca thinks to herself as she turns the key in the ignition.

* * *

She doesn’t crash the car.

She  _almost_ did at the sight of the evening sun on Chloe’s face, wind from the open window whipping her hair around as she laughed. 

But she didn’t. And that’s all that matters.

* * *

Apparently Chloe does everything attractively—and that includes eating pizza.

It’s rather rude. 

It takes a moment of Chloe staring at her amusedly for Beca to realize she’s been staring. Quickly, she averts her gaze to her pizza. 

“So,” Chloe says, folding her hands on the table, “you ask to take me out on a date, but you still have yet to say anything.”

Beca winces, reddening. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“It’s okay,” Chloe says gently. “It’s cute. Although I can’t for the life of me figure out why you are.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself?” Beca blurts, and then flushes harder, feeling the tips of her ears burning. She wonders where her ability to play it cool has gone off to.

Chloe just laughs, tangling her fingers loosely in Beca’s on top of the table. “I could say the same thing to you.”

“Really?” Beca knows she’s probably smiling like an idiot, but Chloe is flirting with her while holding her hand so she doesn’t care.

“Of course! You know what I thought when I first saw you?” Chloe asks, and Beca shakes her head. “I thought, ‘Damn, that basketball chick is hot.’”

Beca eyes her suspiciously. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Would I ever?”

“I don’t know,” Beca says, poking at her slice of pizza. “I’ve never actually talk to you before, so…”

“And whose fault is that?” Chloe teases with a playful smile.

“Yours,” Beca says, and Chloe raises her eyebrows. “You’re intimidating.”

“Me? I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” Beca insists. “You’re physically flawless and head cheerleader.”

Chloe just shrugs and picks up her slice of pizza. “Can’t argue with the facts.” She winks, smirking when Beca’s mouth falls open and quickly shuts again.

This girl is going to be the death of her.

* * *

“Well, I had fun,” Chloe says as Beca walks with her up to the door of her house. “You should definitely start speaking to me from now on.”

Beca nudges Chloe’s shoulder with her own. “Shut up.”

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” Chloe deadpans. 

“It’s what I do,” Beca replies, a smile tugging at her lips.

They pause for a moment by the door, just looking at each other, before Chloe brings one hand up to cup Beca’s cheek, just like she did outside of the locker room—but this time, she doesn’t pull away.

Carefully, slowly, as though afraid Beca will run away, Chloe leans in. Beca doesn’t know what to focus on between the sight of Chloe’s lips nearing her own, the burning of Chloe’s hand on her cheek, or the smell of Chloe’s perfume that gets stronger as she draws nearer.

Finally, their lips meet. Chloe is gentle; it’s chaste but sweet, leaving Beca craving more. 

It isn’t until she feels the cool air hit her cheek again that Beca opens her eyes and sees Chloe has pulled away.

“Good night,” Chloe says, leaning back in to kiss Beca on the cheek before disappearing into her house.

It takes Beca a full thirty seconds to regain the ability to walk, and she darts back to her car so Chloe’s neighbors don’t think she has a stalker. She smiles to herself, feeling proud.

Just wait until the girls on the basketball team hear about this.


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Fat Amy convince Emily to help them touch/catch the neighbor’s cat, Chloe catches them and reprimands Beca for leading Emily astray and that she should know better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been writing prompts for five years and this remains the weirdest one

“Psst. Legacy.”

“ _Emily_.”

“Huh? Wha?” Emily’s eyes crack open. When she sees the two girls hovering over her bed, she jumps, clapping a hand to her chest. “You scared me. Wait, how did you get into my dorm?”

“I picked the lock,” Fat Amy says dismissively.

“You wha—”

“You like cats, right?” Beca interrupts in a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m like the cat whisperer,” Emily says proudly, momentarily forgetting the fact that the two Bellas had broken into her dorm room in the middle of the night.

“Good. We need your help.” Beca feels around under Emily’s bed and pulls out a pair of shoes. “Come with us.”

“What? Why?”

“No time for questions,” Fat Amy tells her, adjusting the knitted black hat atop her head.

Beca and Fat Amy wait for Emily to pull on her shoes and grab a light jacket before leaving the room, easing the door shut behind them so as not to wake Emily’s roommate, who slept through the entire ordeal.

Out in the light of the hall, Emily can see that Beca and Fat Amy are dressed in head-to-toe black. Beca has a large flashlight in her hand.

“Now can you tell me why I’m being kidnapped?” Emily asks. “Wait, is this part of the initiation?”

“You’ve been in the Bellas for three months, Legacy,” Beca says as they exit the building. “This is much more important.”

“There’s this cat that lives near the house,” Fat Amy explains, the cool night air blowing her ponytail as they cut across campus. “It meows at all hours of the night, and I need a full thirteen hours of beauty sleep if I want to maintain all this.” She gestures to the length of her body.

“And what do you want me to do?” Emily asks, looking more confused by the minute.

“We need you to lure it out so we can catch it,” Beca says, the flashlight in her hand casting long shadows in front of them.

“What are you going to do with it?”

Fat Amy shushes Emily, holding a finger to her lips. “You let us worry about that.”

“I don’t know…” Emily says uncertainly as they approach the Bellas house.

“Legacy, do you want to be a Bella?” Beca says, moving to stand in front of her with her arms crossed.

“Of course!”

“Then part of the deal is helping out your Bella sisters.” Beca pulls a small bag of cat treats from her sweatshirt pocket and shoves them into Emily’s hand. “Here.”

“There it is!” Fat Amy hisses, pointing across the yard to an orange tabby demurely licking its paws.

“Go do your thing, Legacy,” Beca says, nudging Emily in the back.

“Okay,” Emily says reluctantly. “Here, kitty kitty,” she calls, slowly approaching the cat while shaking the bag of treats in front of her. “Come here.” She crouches, holding out a hand for the cat to sniff, blinking slowly and deliberately.

The cat stares at Emily for a moment before meowing softly and padding over to sniff Emily’s fingers.

“Hi, kitty,” Emily coos, opening the bag and pulling out a treat for the cat. It eats it right out of Emily’s palm, purring. “Hi, baby.”

“Go get the box,” Beca whispers to Fat Amy urgently.

“Aye aye, captain,” Fat Amy replies, grabbing a cardboard box from where they’d stashed it earlier on the front stoop.

Beca makes a wide circle around Emily until she’s standing in front of the younger girl, careful not to get too close and scare the cat. “Legacy,” she says lowly, prompting Emily to look up at her from where she’s scratching the cat under its chin. “Grab it.” Beca mimes picking up the cat with her hands as Amy comes to stand beside her with the box.

Looking conflicted for a moment, Emily quickly grabs the cat underneath its shoulders.

Bad move.

“Rrrreeow!” the cat screeches, twisting and hissing, trying to get away from its captor.

“Ahh!” Emily screams as the cat tries to sink its claws into her arm.

“What the hell is going on out here?”

Emily drops the cat to the ground, who scurries away into the darkness. All three girls turn to see Chloe standing on the stoop, dressed in pajamas and hair mussed from sleep.

“Um,” Amy says, looking down at the box in her hands.

“Why is Emily here? It’s three in the morning,” Chloe says, looking thoroughly irritated as she approaches the girls. “What were you doing with that cat?” she demands, hands on her hips.

Beca and Amy exchange a guilty glance.

“They wanted me to help them catch him,” Emily blurts, and Beca casts her a disbelieving look.

“Way to rat us out, Legacy,” Amy mutters.

“I’m sorry, I’m terrible under pressure.” Emily looks like she might start crying.

Chloe gives her a gentle smile and places a soothing hand on her arm. “You’re okay,” she says before turning her gaze on Beca. “How many times have I told you to leave that cat alone?” she scolds. “And now you’re dragging her into this?” She gestures to Emily. “You should know better.”

Beca bites her lip guiltily and looks away, muttering, “Sorry.”

“Sorry, cap,” Amy echoes.

“I am going to take Emily back to her dorm,” Chloe says, grabbing the flashlight out of Beca’s hand before jabbing a finger in her chest. “And you can go sleep in your own bed.” She stalks off, dragging Emily along with her.

 _Sorry_ , Emily mouths to them over her shoulder.

Amy blows out a breath, looking at Beca. “She banished you. That’s rough.”

Beca shrugs, watching Chloe and Emily retreat into the night with a smirk. “I’ll make sure she forgets about it tomorrow.”


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do something Bechloe with Emily as their lovechild?

“Oh, no. You are  _not_  wearing that to school.”

“Mom!” Emily exclaims, looking down at her outfit. “Everyone wears crop tops.”

Chloe shakes her head emphatically. “Everyone but you.”

“But—”

“No buts!” Chloe interrupts. “Go change.”

“ _Mom_!”

Chloe looks over at Beca, who is hunched over a bowl of cereal, tapping at her phone. “Honey, can I get some backup on this?”

Beca looks up briefly. “Do what your mother says.”

“You didn’t even  _look_ ,” Emily says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Beca puts her phone down. “Wait, what’s the issue?”

Chloe huffs, rolling her eyes. “Emily wants to go to school dressed like  _that_.” She gestures to her daughter’s patterned crop top and denim shorts.

“I don’t really see the problem,” Beca says, taking another bite of cereal.

“Thank you,” Emily says. “See? Mom agrees with me.”

“Are you kidding?” Chloe looks at her wife disbelievingly. “She has, like, six inches of skin exposed.”

“Oh, no,” Beca says, her tone mockingly horrified. “Her bellybutton is showing. The horror!”

Chloe picks up the newspaper lying on the table and smacks Beca on the shoulder with it. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“Let her wear what she wants. If other people can’t handle it, that’s their problem,” Beca says around a mouthful of cereal.

“I’m sorry that I don’t want people ogling my daughter,” Chloe huffs.

A car horn honks outside. “That’s Flo’s mom,” Emily says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Gotta go!” She pecks both of her moms on their cheeks and rushes outside before Chloe can get a word in.

Chloe turns to glare at Beca, eyes smoldering.

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?” Beca says, batting her eyelashes.

Chloe remains silent, crossing her arms and holding her stare.

Beca pushes the chair back and stands, coming to stand behind Chloe. She wraps her arms around her wife, nuzzling her nose in Chloe’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Beca whispers, running her hands down Chloe’s sides. “Can I make it up to you?”

“You can’t try to buy my forgiveness with sex,” Chloe says, but her breath is coming in short pants because Beca has swept her hair to the side and is placing open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“I can try,” Beca husks, her warm breath making goosebumps rise on Chloe’s skin. Slowly, she begins to unbutton Chloe’s shirt, smirking when her wife makes no move to stop her. Beca moves to face her as she pushes the shirt off of Chloe’s shoulders, teasingly brushing her fingertips over her skin.

Suddenly, Beca pulls her hands away, and Chloe whines at the loss of contact. “What are you doing?” Chloe asks, eyes fluttering open.

“I’m too distracted by the sight of your bellybutton to continue,” Beca says dramatically, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Chloe narrows her eyes in a way that makes Beca a little nervous as she steps closer. “Go upstairs and take off your clothes,” she growls.

“But—”

“No buts!” Chloe cuts her off, much like she did to Emily, her gaze predatory. “This is what happens when you try to undermine me.”

Beca licks her lips, eyes darkening. “Yes, ma'am.”

Chloe smirks as she watches Beca scurry past, the surprised squeak she emits when Chloe smacks her on the ass just an added bonus.


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca and Emily are trying to learn choreography and they both get hurt so Chloe has to work to take care of them? Oh and Beca is a big baby when she’s hurt.

“One, two, three, and—roll!”

“Ow!”

“Fuck!”

Chloe rushes across the practice space to where Beca and Emily have managed to forward roll right into each other.

“Dammit, Legacy!” Beca snaps angrily, the outline of Emily’s sneaker glowing red on her forehead.

“I’m sorry!” Emily says, looking horrified. She’s holding her left ankle with both hands, but looks more concerned for Beca.

“Are you two okay?” Chloe asks, crouching down next to the girls.

“No!” Beca points an accusing finger at Emily. “She kicked me in the head.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily says again, moving to stand. As soon as she goes to put weight on her ankle she crumples back to the floor with a gasp.

“Emily, can you take off your shoe?” Chloe asks, and Emily nods. “Cynthia Rose, will you get her an ice pack?”

“What about me?” Beca grumbles, looking annoyed.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “ _Two_  ice packs, please.”

“You got it.” Cynthia Rose jogs out of the room.

Chloe gently turns Emily’s ankle in her hands. “It doesn’t look swollen. You probably sprained it at most.” Emily nods, looking relieved. “Let’s elevate it and put some ice on it, okay?”

“Okay,” Emily says, and Ashley and Jessica help Emily to her feet, guiding her over to a chair.

“Um,  _hello_ ,” Beca says, pointing to her head. “I have a head injury. It could be serious.”

Chloe has to stop herself from rolling her eyes again. Beca would deny it until she died, but she has a terribly low tolerance for pain.

“Let’s see,” Chloe says, brushing her fingertips over the bump that’s forming.  
“Ouch!” Beca says, yanking her head back. “Don’t press on it!”

“I wasn’t,” Chloe tells her calmly.

“Well, it felt like you did.” Beca’s tone is petulant, and Chloe thinks she sees tears forming in her eyes. “I could have a concussion.”

“I don’t think you have a concussion.”

“But I  _could_!” Beca insists. “How would you know? You’re not a doctor.”

“You weren’t rolling very fast.” Chloe takes one of the ice packs that Cynthia Rose ahs returned with and hands it to Beca. “And you don’t seem dizzy or disoriented.”

“So?” Beca tentatively touches the ice pack to her forehead, wincing and hissing out a breath.

“ _So_ ,” Chloe drawls, “I don’t think you have a concussion. But if you’re dying to wait in the emergency room, I will take you.”

“No, that’s okay,” Beca says. “I can take it.”

Chloe bites her lip to keep from laughing. “I’m sure.”

“I  _can_.”

“I believe you.” Chloe reaches out and helps pull Beca to her feet. She sways for a moment, and Chloe rushes to grab her.  
“Maybe you should help me back to the house,” Beca says, pouting her lip slightly. “You know, in case I die?”

Chloe nods mock-seriously, slinging Beca’s arm over her shoulder. The younger girl sinks into the touch. “I probably should.”

“And we can lie in bed and watch Grey’s Anatomy,” Beca says, a tinge hopefully. “Since I’m injured and all.”

“You can’t be looking at screens if you have a concussion,” Chloe says, grinning at the irritated look Beca gives her.

“Shut up.”

Chloe just places a gentle kiss to the bump on Beca’s forehead with a chuckle.


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Chloe walked in when Jesse was trying to kiss Beca in the first movie and walks out crying because of her feelings for her.

Beca’s not quite sure how showing Jesse her mixes led to them watching the end of  _The Breakfast Club_ , but since he’s her friend Beca doesn’t fling his laptop across the room.

And it’s only the end of the movie, so she figures humoring him will make this whole thing pass quicker than if she dragged her feet and complained about it.

Plus, it’s kind of entertaining to watch Jesse watch the movie.

She’s not the most well-versed person in friendship, but Beca suspects it involves feigning interest in the things your friends like.

It takes her a moment to realize that Jesse has turned his attention to the side of her face—and while Beca thinks her face is at least mildly pleasing to the eye, she doesn’t know why Jesse would be looking at it while his favorite movie is playing.

She turns to ask him what he’s doing, and it’s then that she sees his lips inching closer to her own.

Oh.

Before she can push him away, her door opens.

“Hey, Bec, do you want to—”

Beca jerks away from Jesse at the sound of Chloe’s voice, feeling inexplicably guilty.

Ch'oe freezes with her hand on the doorknob, her words dying in her throat. She stands there for a moment, gaze jumping between Beca and Jesse, before she quickly turns away and exits the room, slamming the door lightly behind her.

“That was weird,” Jesse says, as if he wasn’t just  _about to kiss Beca._

Beca springs up from the bed, snapping the lights back on and grabbing her keys and phone. She can see the flicker of hurt that had crossed Chloe’s face on the back of her eyelids every time she blinks. “I should go talk to her.”

“But…” Jesse says, although he doesn’t seem to have an excuse to follow.

“Sorry,” Beca says shortly, holding the door open so he’ll get the message.

Jesse gives her a pointed look as he exits the room, clutching his laptop to his chest as he mutters a curt, “Bye.”

Once he disappears down the hallway, Beca pokes her head in her floor’s common room. No Chloe. She hurries down the stairs, jogging out the door and looking around campus.

Finally, she spots a girl with red hair across the green and hurries after her.

“Chlo,” Beca calls, speed-walking to catch up. She reaches for Chloe’s hand to get her attention.

Chloe yanks her hand back, and Beca’s heart sinks.

“What do you want?” Chloe says, her voice uneven and scratchy. Her eyes are slightly red, and she her face is tight, like she’s trying not to cry.

“Whoa, dude,” Beca says, wanting desperately to brush away the stray tear running down Chloe’s cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Beca,” Chloe tells her, although she looks far from fine. “You should get back to your boyfriend.”

“My what?” Beca’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Well, you certainly looked awfully cozy with Jesse.” Chloe’s tone is resentful and biting, and very un-Chloe-like. It almost sounds like… jealousy.

“Yeah, he was about to kiss me, but I wasn’t going to let him,” Beca says, tentatively reaching for Chloe’s hand, breathing a sigh of relief when she doesn’t pull away. “I don’t like him… like that. We’re just friends.”

“Are you sure?” Chloe’s voice is small, her face uncertain. It makes her look young.

“Aca-absolutely,” Beca says, then groans. “Please don’t ever tell anyone I just said that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Chloe says with a giggle as Beca leads them over to sit in the shade of a large tree.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, just watching the people go by. Beca periodically sneaks looks at Chloe. Her red hair is illuminated by the sunlight, and she looks almost angelic.

“You really didn’t want to kiss Jesse?” Chloe asks quietly. “Because you can. Don’t not do it because of me.”

Beca leans back on her hands, watching some kid ride past on a skateboard. “There’s only one person I want to kiss, and it isn’t Jesse.” She turns to meet Chloe’s eyes, which are wide with cautious hope.

“Who do you want to kiss, then?” Chloe asks slowly.

Beca takes a deep breath and decides to go for it. “You.”

Chloe blinks, looking surprised. “Really?” she asks breathlessly, like she can’t believe it.

“Really,” Beca confirms, and she can’t help but mirror Chloe’s wide grin.

“When?” Chloe asks, because she’s the only person Beca knows who would want an exact time on this (besides maybe Aubrey—but Beca shudders at the thought of kissing her).

“Um,” Beca says, stalling playfully. “Maybe tonight at eight, after I take you out to dinner?”

Chloe squeals excitedly, grabbing Beca’s cheeks and planting a kiss right on her mouth. Then Chloe pulls back abruptly, covering her mouth with one hand. “I just fucked that up, didn’t I?”

Beca tips her head back and laughs. “No, that’s okay. I’ll still pick you up at six.”

Chloe grins. “It’s a date.”


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a Lovechild AU drabble of Beca and Chloe comforting Emily after a tough breakup or something along those lines?

Beca never thought she’d be one of  _those moms_ —the kind who can’t stand the thought of her daughter out on a date with a  _boy_. Or doing anything else with a boy. Or really even being on the same planet as boys.

It’s irrational, she knows. But irrationality is a large component of parenthood, she’s found.

It kind of helps that Emily’s boyfriend looks young enough to still not know how sex works.

Still, Beca sometimes needs Chloe to distract her when Emily leaves the house arm-in-arm with Benji.

Chloe’s in the middle of  _distracting_ her when the door bangs open an hour before Emily’s curfew. Beca and Chloe quickly separate, sitting up on the couch a respectable distance apart and righting their clothing.

Emily appears in the doorway, her face streaked with tears. 

“Sweetie, what happened?” Chloe exclaims, quickly pulling Emily over to sit between them on the couch. Beca snags the box of tissues off of the coffee table and shoves them unceremoniously into Emily’s hands. (She’s never been good with crying people.)

“Benji broke up with me,” Emily sobs, and Beca  _totally_ gets those “Dads Against Daughters Dating” t-shirts now.

“Oh, honey,” Chloe says, brushing the hair out of Emily’s face and cradling her head to her shoulder.

Beca rubs Emily’s arm in a way that she hopes is soothing. (Chloe’s always been the more physical comforter.) “Do you want me to, like, go kick his ass or something?” she offers.

Chloe shoots Beca a look over her daughter’s head. “She’s just kidding.”

 _I’m not_ , Beca mouths back, and Chloe gives a look that clearly means s _hut up_.

“He said it’s just ‘not working anymore,’” Emily says, holding up her fingers in air quotes. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he’s an idiot,” Beca mutters, pressing a kiss to the side of Emily’s head.

“Did you know that your mother broke up with me once?” Chloe says, and Beca shoots her a death glare because  _do they really need to tell this story now?_

“You did?” Emily asks, sniffling. “Why?”

“Because I was young and stupid and emotionally stunted,” Beca says sheepishly. “And afraid of commitment.”

“It’s true,” Chloe confirms, and if Emily weren’t between them Beca would have smacked her on the arm. “But here we are, married with a beautiful daughter.” 

“So you’re saying that I should… marry Benji and have a kid?” Emily asks confusedly.

“No, no.” Beca holds her hands up and considers covering her ears, because she  _really_ doesn’t want to think about her baby girl having children. 

“Just that sometimes things don’t go our way, but they’ll all work out in the end.” Chloe holds Emily’s face in her hands, wiping away the tears. 

Emily smiles weakly and blows her nose. “But can we still watch bad reality TV and eat ice cream?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One shot or drabble where Beca and Jesse are twins who have a crush on cousins Chloe and Aubrey who live across the road from them

Living across the street from the girl Beca’s essentially in love with is a particularly cruel kind of torture. The fact that her bedroom window faces said girl’s house just exacerbates the problem.

Beca is often tempted to just camp out in front of the window, waiting for Chloe to walk from the front door to the car, or to read on the lawn on a sunny day, or to water her mother’s flowerbed.

But she doesn’t, because that’s creepy. (Well, she doesn’t do it  _often_.)

Jesse, it appears, does not have the same qualms.

It’s kind of annoying to have him in her room constantly, peering out the window, looking for Chloe’s cousin, Aubrey, in a way that Beca suspects might be illegal. 

They might be fraternal twins, but Beca and Jesse are identical in their pathetic cowardice from their feelings.

They play the “I’ll tell her if you tell her” game at least three times a week, but one of them always has some sort of excuse to not do it—Beca overheard Chloe flirting with a senior from the football team that morning; Jesse saw Aubrey making goo-goo eyes at some guy in their history class.

Until one day Jesse comes home, bursts into Beca’s room, and announces he has a date with Aubrey on Friday night.

“Dude,” Beca says, pushing her laptop to the side. “What about our pact?”

“We made that pact a year ago, Bec.” Jesse sits on the end of Beca’s bed. “I saw my chance, and I took it.”

“Good for you,” Beca says sarcastically, glancing furtively at the window. She doesn’t really have a right to be, but she’s jealous and a bit bitter.

“You should just ask Chloe out,” Jesse tells her. “We can double date. She’d probably be into it.”

“I don’t know.” Beca sighs. “What if she says no?”

Jesse shrugs. “What if she says yes?”

* * *

Beca doesn’t get a chance to speak to Chloe alone until two days later, in school. The lunch bell had just rung, effectively emptying the hallways. She spots Chloe shoving books into her locker, takes a deep breath, and decides to go for it.

“Hey, Chloe,” Beca says, approaching her neighbor. She hopes the way her voice shakes goes unnoticed.

“Hi, Beca,” Chloe says, smiling brightly as she jams a binder into her backpack. “What’s up?”

“My brother is going on a date with Aubrey.”  _Wonderful segue, Beca_.

“Yeah, she told me,” Chloe replies, still giving Beca that smile. “She’s actually been waiting for him to ask her out for awhile now.” Chloe lowers her tone, as if Aubrey might be lurking nearby and overhear.

“Oh, really?” Beca raises her eyebrows in surprise.  _I guess she didn’t notice all of his creepy window staring_ , she muses.

“Don’t tell her I told you.” Chloe winks, and Beca thinks it’s a rather unfair move. “Well, I’m gonna head to lunch,” Chloe says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Nice seeing yo—”

“Would you want to go on a double date?” Beca blurts, and it’s not her finest movie, but at least she got the words out without throwing up or crying.

“With whom?” Chloe asks, lips curled amusedly.

“With Jesse and Aubrey,” Beca says, shifting on her feet. “And, um, me.”

Chloe’s smirk morphs into a wide smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Wait, you’ve been waiting for me to ask you out?” Beca asks, stunned.

“I mean,” Chloe says, “you’ve been staring at me through your bedroom window for a year now.”

Beca’s mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. She feels her face flush, and rushes to apologize, but Chloe cuts her off.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night at six,” Chloe says. She briefly squeezes Beca’s arm before sauntering away.

Beca’s pretty sure she’s putting that sway in her hips on purpose.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca is a vet and Chloe goes to with her puppy to the vet where Beca works at and has a crush on her

For the record, Chloe didn’t buy the dog  _just_ so she’d have an excuse to see Beca. She does love it, and it’s nice to have someone to come on runs with her.

The Beca thing is just a bonus.

Chloe had been cat-sitting for her neighbor the first time she’d met Beca. The cat had somehow managed to eat a rather large amount of chocolate, and Chloe had rushed her to the vet so they could perform whatever the feline equivalent of pumping one’s stomach is.

The massive bill Chloe had presented to her neighbor when the woman returned from vacation essentially ensured she’d never be cat-sitting again.

So Chloe got a dog.

(His name is Billie.)

She’s not crazy or heartless enough to purposely feed him something poisonous, or to injure him. So she just has to… stretch the truth a bit.

“Chloe?”

She looks up from the magazine she’s reading in the waiting room to see a young woman in scrubs dotted in dancing cats calling her name. Tucking Billie under one arm, Chloe stands and walks over. “That’s me.”

“Come on in,” the woman says with a warm smile, and Chloe follows her to an exam room. “Dr. Mitchell will be in shortly.”

“Okay, thank you,” Chloe says, sitting down in one of the chairs with Billie in her lap. She pets his head absently for several minutes until there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Hello.” Beca pokes her head in the door, and Chloe feels her stomach flutter.

Chloe is hopeless and kind of pathetic, but Beca looks damn good in khakis and a lab coat.

“Hi,” Chloe greets, and Billie jumps off of her lap to sniff Beca’s Converse.

(Khakis and Converse are not a combination Chloe ever thought she’d think of as sexy, yet here she is.)

“What seems to be the problem today?” Beca asks, lifting the dog onto the exam table. 

“Um…” Chloe wracks her brain for the excuse she had come up with earlier. “He’s been very lethargic.”

“Has he been eating?” Beca asks as she lifts Billie’s tail to take his temperature. 

“Yeah,” Chloe says, then pauses. “I mean no. Not as much as usual.”

Beca gives her kind of a strange look, but proceeds to look at Billie’s fur and skin, and in his ears. 

All the while, Billie pants and wags his tail happily. Chloe tries to telepathically tell him to act sick, but it apparently isn’t working. 

“Has he been going to the bathroom okay? Have you been taking him out?” Beca starts feeling along Billie’s abdomen.

“He hasn’t gone in a couple of days,” Chloe says, crossing her fingers behind her back that she’s not making up some mix of symptoms that are  _too_ alarming—or worse, not convincing enough. 

“I don’t feel any blockage,” Beca says, still poking at Billie. 

“Oh.” Chloe forces a smile.

After a few more moments of examination, Beca snaps off her gloves, the look on her face unreadable. It makes Chloe a little nervous.

“I don’t find anything physically wrong with him,” Beca says, throwing the gloves in the trash. She puts Billie back down gently on the floor, where the dog circles Chloe’s feet, trying to jump up onto the chair. “I’m not seeing the lethargy you’re describing.”

 _Fuck_. Chloe tries to think up an explanation, but she can’t think very quickly when Beca is  _looking_ at her like that. “I’m sorry,” she blurts.

“For… what?” Beca looks confused.

“Billie isn’t sick,” Chloe admits, hanging her head. “I lied.”

Now Beca looks even  _more_ confused. “What? Why?”

“Because you’re pretty, and smart, and I’m an idiot,” Chloe mumbles, face rapidly reddening.

There’s a pause; Beca stares at her for a moment, arms crossed, and Chloe’s  _sure_ she’s about to be yelled at.

But then Beca bursts out laughing, doubling over slightly.

Chloe just stares.

“Wow,” Beca says once she’s caught her breath. “That’s… wow.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says again, feeling stupid.

“I feel like I should take you on a date just for effort,” Beca tells her, eyebrows raised.

“Wait, really?” Chloe’s not sure she heard correctly. 

“As long as you promise not to waste any more of my time,” Beca says, scribbling several numbers down on a prescription pad.

“I won’t,” Chloe promises, taking the paper and staring at it dumbly.

“I’m free on Thursday night.” Beca reaches for the door. “Nice to meet you…?”

“Chloe,” she fills in. “And okay.”

“See you on Thursday, Chloe.” Beca pauses to pat Billie one more time. “Remember: no more funny business.” She points a finger at Chloe.

“You got it,” Chloe assures her.

Beca gives her a quick smile, then disappears through the door.

The high-pitched squeal Chloe lets out probably drives all of the dogs in the clinic crazy.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story where Chloe gets Beca to watch her favorite movie (you choose) And since Beca doesn't like movies, she's sulking a lot and Chloe cheers Beca up by initiating a tickle fight between the two and they find each other suddenly very close to each other at the end and Chloe kisses Beca and Beca is all like "Idk how to feel" but kisses back?

Getting Beca to watch a film is like pulling teeth.

Chloe really doesn’t understand what the big deal is—she’s only asking Beca to sit and stare at a screen for a couple of hours, which she does  _all the time_ when she’s making her mixes.

Beca’s usually pretty compliant for the first twenty minutes or so until whatever snack Chloe’s bribed her with has been finished. 

Then she enters what Chloe refers to as the “petulant toddler stage.” (She doesn’t call it that to Beca’s face, of course.) Sometimes she has to practically sit on top of Beca just to keep her from escaping.

They only have a movie night once a month, which Chloe thinks is pretty fair—that’s just twelve movies a year, excluding the occasional Bellas movie nights and the  _Hunger Games_ premieres that she literally drags Beca to.

It’s the third Thursday of the month, so Chloe stops in the campus store on the way home and buys salt and vinegar chips and Twizzlers—Beca’s favorites. 

Beca is waiting in Chloe’s room when she gets home that evening, laptop propped on her knees and headphones over her ears. When she spots Chloe (or, more specifically, the food in Chloe’s hands), she closes the laptop and slides off the headphones.

“Hey,” Chloe greets, shrugging off her jacket. 

“Let’s get this over with,” is all Beca says in response, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, hands folded in her lap.

Chloe rolls her eyes and digs in her desk drawer for a moment for her copy of  _50 First Dates_. “Nice to see you, too.”

Beca eyes the DVD warily. “Another rom-com? Really?”

Chloe shushes her as she flops down on the bed with her laptop. “It’s not like most romantic comedies,” she says, sliding the disc into the drive. “And it’s my favorite, so be nice.”

Beca sighs dramatically but doesn’t say anything more, instead ripping open the bag of chips.

They actually make it through about half an hour of the film before Beca starts shifting restlessly and huffing irritatedly. “This is unrealistic,” she grumbles.

“Shh.” 

“The entire town just goes along with this?” Beca gestures to the screen accusatorially. 

“Yes,” Chloe hisses. “So shut up.”

“Wow,  _rude_.”

Chloe jabs Beca in the side with her elbow, prompting Beca to squeal a little and jump.

“That tickles,” Beca says when Chloe looks at her inquisitively.

“Oh, really?” Chloe pokes Beca in the side, and Beca’s eyes widen in alarm.

“Don’t even think about—”

She’s cut of by the involuntary laugh that ripples out when Chloe grabs her sides with both hands, digging her fingers in.

“Chloe!” Beca wheezes. “Stop!”

“Not until you shut up.” Chloe pushes the laptop out of the way to straddle Beca’s hips, wiggling her fingers underneath Beca’s arms.

Beca tries to push Chloe away while still keeping her arms clamped to her sides so the redhead can’t reach her armpits. (It’s not very effective.)

Beca’s laughter starts coming out as more of a gasp, like she’s struggling for air, and Chloe eases her motions. She once read a book in elementary school about a girl who nearly tickled her brother to death, and while she’s unsure if that’s actually possible, she’d rather not risk it. (She’s too young and pretty to go to jail.)

Chloe stares down at Beca, a hand on either side of her head, as the younger girl tries to catch her breath. They’re close enough that she can feel every labored exhale against her lips.

If you asked Chloe later what, exactly, possessed her to close the gap between them and press her lips to Beca’s, she wouldn’t have a particular reason.

It just  _feels_ right.

Well, at first it feels kind of awkward, because Beca’s frozen in shock, simply laying there with her lips to Chloe’s for several seconds before Chloe pulls back slightly, afraid she’s made a terrible mistake.

“I’m sorry, I—”

She’s cut off when Beca reconnects their lips, kissing her with purpose this time. It only lasts for a few seconds, because Beca is still out of breath.

“What was that for?” Beca asks when they break apart for the second time. Her face is flushed and her eyes are wide, but she’s smiling softly. Chloe thinks she looks especially beautiful in this moment.

“Just trying to get you to shut up,” Chloe jokes, eyes flicking back down to Beca’s lips.

“Well, you could have tried that before assaulting me,” Beca says, smirking. “Saved us both some trouble.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Chloe dismounts Beca’s lap, settling the laptop in front of them again and pressing play.

“Really?” Beca says indignantly, propping herself up on her elbows. “We’re gonna finish watching this  _now_?”

This time, Chloe knows exactly how to shut her up.


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you maybe do one where Chloe overhears Beca singing showtunes in the shower and then starts teasing her playfully about it, making Beca feel like less of a badass.

Chloe must be dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or  _very_ overtired.

She  _must_ be imagining this, because Beca Mitchell does not sing showtunes.

Cautiously, she creeps down the hallway and plasters her ear to the door of the bathroom. 

There’s no mistaking it—Beca is definitely belting out “A Summer in Ohio.”

It’s especially peculiar because Chloe didn’t make her watch that musical—which means that Beca must have watched it on her own. Chloe smiles to herself, plotting exactly how she can use this knowledge to her advantage.

“What are you doing?”

Chloe jumps, and whirls around to see Fat Amy looking at her quizzically. “Um, nothing,” she says, feigning nonchalance. 

“That’s not one of your  _lady jams_ , is it?” Amy asks, gesturing to the door.

Chloe rolls her eyes. The story of how Chloe had gotten Beca to audition had slipped out during a  _very_ intense (and very alcohol-infused) game or truth or dare two years ago. Chloe’s waiting for the day she can live it down. “Ew, Amy, no.”

Amy gives her a lascivious smirk and Chloe walks away hurriedly, because she  _really_ doesn’t want to hear whatever story Amy’s about to tell.

* * *

Chloe waits on Beca’s bed, flipping through a magazine until Beca appears in the doorway wrapped in a towel, hair dripping down her shoulders. 

It’s not unusual for Beca to find Chloe lounging in her room at random times of the day, so she just smiles a hello and heads into the closet to get dressed.

“I didn’t know you were a Jason Robert Brown fan,” Chloe says casually. There’s a  _thump_  from inside the closet, followed by a sharp, “Fuck,” and Chloe wishes she could see the look on Beca’s face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beca calls back, voice muffled.

In lieu of an answer, Chloe starts singing the lyrics she’d overheard earlier, increasing in volume with each line. “Iiiiii could have a satchel full of dollar bills, cures for all the nation’s ills, pills to make —”

“Oh my God, will you shut up?” Beca hisses, reappearing from the closet in jeans and a t-shirt. “Someone could overhear,” she says, as if random singing were some sort of unusual occurrence in the house.

“Beca Mitchell, a closet Broadway fan?” Chloe grins as she notices the tips of Beca’s ears turning red. “Who would have guessed?”

“I’m not,” Beca denies, twisting her wet hair in the towel. “I just… heard it somewhere and it got stuck in my head.”

“You learn lyrics awfully quickly then,” Chloe teases, and Beca kind of looks like she wants to kill her (which is exactly what Chloe was going for—it’s so easy to rile Beca up).

“Yeah, so?” Beca crosses her arms, but she knows she’s caught. 

Chloe ignores her. “We should totally watch  _Into the Woods_ tonight. I just got the DVD. Since you’re such a big musical fan and all.”

“What? No. No, we should not do that.” Beca picks up a brush from her desk and yanks it through her hair. “And I’m  _not_.”

“It’s definitely in your best interest to agree,” Chloe warns, smirking at the way Beca’s mouth falls open in disbelief.

“You can’t blackmail me into watching musicals with you, Chloe.”

“Watch me.”

“No!” Beca says again, this time with a little foot-stomp. Call her a bad friend, but Chloe derives endless hours of entertainment from the way Beca turns into an actual four-year-old when she’s frustrated.

Chloe tips her head back and starts singing again, even louder this time. “Iiiii could be in line to be the British queen, look like I was seven—”

“Okay, okay, fine!” Beca claps a hand over Chloe’s mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, for the love of God.” She yanks her hand away and jumps back when she feels the wetness of Chloe’s tongue drag across her palm. “Dude, gross!”

Okay, so  _maybe_ Chloe sometimes acts like a four-year-old as well.

Sue her.


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse insults Beca and Chloe’s relationship. Beca gives him a verbal smackdown.

Beca doesn’t care about a lot of things.

She doesn’t care about what other people think of her (especially her father). She doesn’t care that she’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for three days in a row. She doesn’t care about that lesbian prison television show that everyone is so infatuated with.

And she definitely does not care about  _Jaws._

Yes, she and Jesse are friends, and no, she isn’t the most experienced person in the department of friendship, but she’s pretty sure it doesn’t entail forcing people to do things they hate.

But Beca still kind of feels residually guilty for kissing him after the ICCAs and effectively dumping him two weeks later for Chloe, so she just goes along with it.

Still, she doesn’t think that she has to pay rapt attention to the screen for the entire film—especially when Chloe is texting her PG-13 but still-decidedly-dirty things.

Jesse huffs every time her’s phone buzzes, even though Beca’s sure he’s seen this movie at least seventeen times.

_**Chloe Beale:**  What are you wearing?_

Beca snorts, because it’s so sexting-101, but she still taps back.

_**Beca Mitchell:**  Jeans and a t-shirt that still smells like the Chinese restaurant we went to last week._

_**Chloe Beale:**  Hot._

“Are you really gonna text through the whole movie?” Jesse asks, irritated, crunching angrily down on a piece of popcorn.

“It’s Chloe,” Beca says, hoping he’ll understand the importance. (Especially because he texted Beca, like, eighty times a day in the short time they were together.)

“Can you tell her to stop being so clingy?” Jesse grumbles, and Beca’s nostrils flare in anger.

“Excuse me?” She sits up fully, crossing her arms, phone clutched in her hand protectively.

“You two are so…” He makes a vague gesture with his hands that Beca doesn’t really understand. “ _Together._  All the time. It’s annoying.”

“If I’m so annoying, why do you force me to hang out with you?” Beca shoots back, moving off of the bed to stand in front of him.

“I do not force you to hang out with me!” Jesse half-shouts. “Can you ever think about someone other than yourself or Chloe?”

“Where the hell is this coming from, Jesse? Are you really that jealous?” Beca’s yelling now, and she’s sure her face is turning an angry red color (the way it always does when she’s mad).

Jesse pushes his laptop off of his lap, pausing the movie. “When you’re supposed to hang out with someone and spend the whole time texting someone else, that’s rude, Beca.” His tone is sharp, and he lifts his chin haughtily.

“Oh, my God,” Beca says, almost laughing in disbelief. “Get over yourself, dude. I’m sorry that you’re still butthurt that I broke up with you, but I love Chloe. I’m not gonna stand here and take this from you. You want to talk about clingy? You never leave me alone.” Beca deeps her voice, mocking Jesse’s tone. “‘Beca, come watch a movie with me.’ 'Beca, come get dinner with me.’ 'Beca, pay attention to me and only me all the time!’ You’re like a fucking leech.” Beca grabs her jacket from the back of Jesse’s desk chair. “You know what? Find someone else to cling to, because I’m done.”

She storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She sinks back against the wall, breathing hard, and pulls out her phone.

_**Beca Mitchell:**  I think I just friend-broke up with Jesse._

Her phone alerts with a new test message almost instantly.

_**Chloe Beale:**  I’ll buy some Ben & Jerry’s on my way back from class._

Beca smiles a little, quickly typing back.

_**Beca Mitchell:** You’re the best._

_**Chloe Beale:**  Love you._

_**Beca Mitchell:**  Love you, too._

Her heart is still pounding from the argument, and she feels badly about what happened, but when Chloe texts her back a very R-rated photo a few minutes later ( _I snuck off to the bathroom to cheer you up_ , it says, like this is a normal thing people do)—

Beca knows she made the right choice.


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet for a guest on ff.net, who wanted that time Beca broke up with Chloe from this prompt. A prequel of sorts.

Beca has very good hearing. Perfect hearing, in fact.

It’s something she likes to rub in her father’s face from time to time, when he tries to pry her headphones off of her ears under the guise of “protecting her eardrums” (when what he really wants is her to fold laundry, or pay attention to something the step-monster is saying, or to just ruin her life in general).

Beca has whatever the hearing equivalent of 20/20 vision is.  
Which is why catches the “I love you” that Chloe whispers, barely more than a breath, long after Beca had assumed she’d gone to sleep.

Beca has three options: 1) Ignore it, 2) return the sentiment, or 3) run as fast and as far away from emotional commitment as possible.

She goes for the third option.

It’s 2 am, but that’s never stopped her before.

* * *

Beca either ignores or deflects Chloe’s calls and texts ( _I’m in the library, I’m having dinner with my dad, I have a mix that I really need to get done_ ) for the next three days before Chloe finally corners her on the campus green. And she doesn’t look too happy.

“Are you mad at me?” Chloe asks, forcibly guiding Beca over to a bench. Her tone is soft and a little bit afraid. It makes

Beca’s chest hurt, but she just keeps hearing the “I love you” over and over in her head, and it feels overwhelming. “No,” she says to Chloe, carefully extracting her hand from her grasp. “But, I, um…”

Chloe’s face morphs from relief to fear, her eyes widening as she leans away from Beca slightly, as if readying herself for the weight of Beca’s words.

Chloe always seemed to know Beca better than she knew herself.

“I think we should maybe see other people,” Beca says in a rush, like ripping off a Band-Aid. She grimaces internally, hating herself for using such a clichéd line.

Chloe blinks rapidly, as if trying to stave off tears. “Oh,” she says, her voice tight. “Was it something… I did?”

“No, no, it’s not you.” Beca bites her tongue to keep from saying  _it’s me_.

Chloe looks like she’s about to ask something more, but she instead clears her throat several times. “I, um,” she says, her voice rough, like she’s trying not to cry (it makes Beca feel like the biggest asshole on planet Earth), “I have to go.” Abruptly, Chloe stands and hurries away, disappearing around a building.

Beca sits on the bench with her head in her hands for a long time after that, thinking about all the reasons why she’s an idiot.

* * *

“Okay, DJ Dumbass, what’s the deal?”

Beca looks up from the potatoes she’d been aimlessly pushing around her plate to see Fat Amy, who drops a plate full of French fries onto the table and sits down across from her. “What?”

“Why did you suddenly break up with Chloe?” Amy rips open several packets of mayonnaise and squeezes them onto her fries, and Beca suppresses a gag.

“We just… uh…” Beca wracks her brain for an excuse that isn’t  _I’m an emotionally stunted idiot who’s afraid of commitment_. “Lost that spark.”

“Bullshit,” Amy says around a mouthful of fries. “The eye sex you two would have was dirtier than any porno I’ve ever seen.” Beca opens her mouth to reply, but Amy cuts her off. “Seriously, why did you suddenly drop her like a hot potato? No pun intended,” she adds, pointing a fry in Beca’s direction.

Beca looks around and lowers her voice, although no one would be able to hear her over the din of the dining hall. “She said she loved me.”

Amy stares at her, unblinking. “…And?”

“I’m moving across the country when I graduate,” Beca says. “Chloe’s staying here for grad school.” She gestures vaguely with her hand. “It just won’t work. It’s easier to break it off now.”

Amy shoves the remaining fries into her mouth, swallows, and then says, “That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?” Beca crosses her arms, mildly offended.

“Beca, close your eyes,” Amy commands.

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Huffing, Beca obliges.

“Picture yourself at your wedding. Think about who’s waiting for you at the end of the aisle.”

“Ooookay,” Beca says, eyes still scrunched shut.

“Now picture yourself winning your first Grammy. Who are you celebrating with?” Before Beca can answer, Amy continues. “Think about having your first child. Who’s in the hospital with you?”

Beca inhales sharply, her brain flooded with images of Chloe in a strapless white gown, holding a bouquet of flowers; Chloe hugging her and spinning her around backstage at the Grammys; Chloe cradling a baby in her arms, cooing softly.

Startled, Beca opens her eyes to see Amy looking at her knowingly.

“I… I have to go,” Beca says, standing hastily and gathering her dishes.

“Good luck!” Amy calls after her. “Always use protection!”

* * *

Beca knocks on the door of Chloe’s apartment, crossing her fingers that Aubrey doesn’t answer the door. She holds her breath until it opens, revealing Chloe, who frowns upon seeing Beca.

“What?” Her voice is monotone.

“Can I come in?” Beca asks hesitantly, and Chloe just steps aside to let Beca in.

They sit on the couch. Chloe doesn’t speak, just crosses her arms and looks at Beca expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” Beca says. It’s not how she planned on starting—but then again, she didn’t really make a plan.

“For what?” Chloe’s tone is somewhat suspicious.

“I heard you say you loved me,” Beca blurts, and now Chloe just looks confused. “The other night, when I left. I heard you, and it freaked me out.”

Chloe stares at her. It’s rather unsettling.

“I freaked out, because I’m an idiot and I thought it would be easier for us to break up now, since I’m moving to LA after I graduate. Because I’m an idiot,” Beca repeats when Chloe raises an eyebrow. “But I realized…” Beca wrings her hands.  _Just say it, you doofus_. “I want to be with you. Like, not just until I graduate. Maybe… forever? If that’s cool with you.”

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” Chloe deadpans, but the corners of her lips curl upward slightly.

“I love you, Chloe.” Beca’s surprised at how easily the words come out. And also that she’s not, like, dead or anything. “I love you,” she says again, because Chloe’s starting to smile for real now. “And I’m sorry,” she adds as an afterthought, for good measure.

Chloe surges forward, grabbing the back of Beca’s neck and crashing their lips together. Beca squeaks in surprise but kisses back, realizing how much she missed this.

“Say it again,” Chloe breathes against Beca’s lips when they part.

“I love you.”

Chloe kisses her again, gentler this time, sweeter.

“I love you, too, you idiot.”


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow-up this this prompt for someone on ff.net, featuring actual adult!Beca.

Chloe decides to meet Beca for coffee on Thursday evening.

She  _wants_  to take her somewhere nice, on a proper date, but she decides to start small. She can’t afford to seem any stranger than Beca already thinks she is.

She’s debating whether she should order now or wait until Beca arrives when the little bell above the door tinkles and Beca enters. Chloe waves her over to the little table she’s snagged along the wall.

“Hey,” Beca says, pulling out a chair. She’s wearing the khakis Chloe assumes she’s worn to work, but she’s wearing a casual grey t-shirt that complements the color of her eyes.

“Hi, Dr. Mitchell,” Chloe greets, and Beca grimaces.

“Please call me Beca,” she says. “Dr. Mitchell sounds…”

“Kinky?” Chloe supplies, and Beca’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Um, the word I was going for was formal.”

Chloe kicks herself mentally.  _So much for trying to seem like a normal person_. “Can I get you something?”

Beca looks at her watch. “Decaf tea?”

“You got it.” Chloe excuses herself and gets in line, periodically glancing back at Beca to make sure she hasn’t fled the building.

Sitting back down with drinks in hand, Chloe concentrates on not doing anything stupid, like spilling her coffee on her lap. After a few moments, she realizes that she’s just been stirring her coffee in silence, and she wracks her brain for a conversation starter. “So, do you have any pets?”

It’s not the smoothest thing she could’ve said, but it’ll do.

“I have two cats,” Beca says, carefully taking a sip of her tea.

“I did  _not_  peg you for a cat person,” Chloe tells her, sitting back in surprise.

“Should I be offended?” Beca’s lips twitch upward, telling Chloe she’s joking.

“You just don't…” Chloe gestures vaguely with her hand, trying to come up with an adjective that can’t be construed as rude. “…Seem like a cat person.”

Beca stares at her for a moment before changing the subject. (Chloe thanks her silently.) “So, what do you do in your free time? Besides using your sick dog to pick up chicks.”

“Oh, I use my sick dog for all sorts of things,” Chloe says sarcastically. “Evading taxes, getting out of speeding tickets, getting discounts at stores.”

“You’re a very odd person,” Beca says, chuckling. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Does that mean you don’t want my help cheating the IRS?” Chloe nudges Beca’s foot with her own under the table.

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

Chloe laughs. “To answer your question, I like to watch bad reality television, run, and sing.”

“Sing, huh?” Beca says, propping her chin on her fist.

“Yeah, I was in an a cappella group in college.” Chloe takes another sip of her coffee.

“An a ca-what?”

“A singing group,” Chloe explains. “We sang covers, but without any instruments. It’s all from our mouths.”

“Oh,” Beca says, and is Chloe imagining things, or did Beca eyes just flick to her lips?

“What about you?” Chloe asks.

“What about me?” Beca says confusedly, then her eyes widen in realization. “Oh. Right. Well, I work a lot. And I…” She pauses, thinking. “I sometimes indulge in the bad reality TV show. But mostly I just work.” Beca wrinkles her nose. “Wow, I sound like the most boring person ever.”

Chloe shakes her head. “I can appreciate being dedicated to your work.”

“What do you do?” Beca rolls her empty cup between her hands.

“I teach underprivileged children to sing,” Chloe answers, and Beca looks surprised. “What did you think I did?”

“I don’t know,” Beca admits. “Stalk people on a full-time basis?”

Chloe swats at her arm. “I did not stalk you.”

“You kind of did.”

“I did not!” Chloe insists as Beca’s phone beeps.

Holding up a finger, Beca glances at the screen. “Dammit,” she mutters.

“What is it?”

“Emergency,” Beca says, rolling her eyes. “Apparently everyone else is busy.” She huffs, giving Chloe the impression that this happens frequently.

“It’s fine if you have to go,” Chloe says. “I wouldn’t want some poor puppy to die on my behalf.”

“I’m so sorry,” Beca apologizes as she gathers her things. “I’ll, um, text you?” She sounds almost shy, and Chloe thinks it’s the most adorable thing in the world. (Other than Beca Mitchell working to save a fluffy puppy, of course.)

“Yes, we can make plans to watch bad reality TV” Chloe assures her.

“Okay.” Beca smiles at her, stuffing her phone in her pocket. “Sorry,” she says again, and Chloe waves to her as she exits the coffee shop.

Looking down at her own phone on the table, Chloe wonders exactly how long she should wait before texting Beca. She doesn’t want to perpetuate the whole stalker thing.

But it’s very hard to resist.


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should do one where Chloe kisses Beca but Beca freaks out because she’s not gay but they end up together.

It comes completely out of the blue.

One minute, they’re hunched over Beca’s laptop, trying to finalize the set list for their next performance, and the next, Chloe’s lips are on Beca’s.

It’s pure instinct for Beca to kiss back, fingers raking through Chloe’s (exceptionally soft) hair as she feels the first sweep of a tongue across the seam of her lips.

Then she remembers that friends don’t enthusiastically make out with friends and pushes Chloe off, sitting in stunned silence for a moment as she catches her breath. Absently, she brushes her fingers over her tingling lips.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks, looking unusually guarded.

“Am I okay?” Beca repeats dumbly. “You just  _kissed_  me.”

“I did.” It’s irritating how calm Chloe seems.

“You can't—you're—I’m not—” Beca sputters, but it’s difficult to formulate a sentence with Chloe staring at her, biting down on her slightly swollen bottom lip.

“Did you… not like it?” Beca’s never heard Chloe sound so small, so scared.

“You’re my  _friend_ ,” Beca says, tugging at her hair in a nervous tic. “I’m not gay, Chloe.”

Chloe frowns. “You don’t have to be.”

“I…” Beca can’t think of a good rebuttal. “You’re my friend,” she repeats.

“Yes, you’ve made that painfully clear,” Chloe says, sounding bitter. She stands hastily, gathering up her choreography notes. “I have to go.”

“Chloe—” Beca calls, but she’s cut off by the slamming of the door.

Silence rings in Beca’s ears as she wonders what the fuck just happened.

“Man, this is some ABC Family shit,” a voice behind Beca says, and she jumps, whirling around to see Amy emerge from the closet.

“You scared the crap out of me,” Beca says, clapping a hand to her chest. “What were you doing in there?”

Amy shrugs nonchalantly. “I hid a king-size Kit Kat in there the other day.”

Beca is confused, but she stopped questioning Amy’s activities long ago.

“So,” Amy continues, “you and Chloe.”

“What  _about_  me and Chloe?” Beca crosses her arms.

“When are you gonna stop pretending that you don’t want to bang each others’ brains out?” Amy asks bluntly.

Beca flushes, trying to stop her mind from picturing just that. “We do  _not_ ,” she denies.

“Are you really going to sit there and tell me you don’t have feelings for Chloe when you two just made out right in front of me?” Amy raises an eyebrow in challenge. “I’ve seen kangaroos go at it with less sexual tension than when you two do your eye-sex thing.”

“We don't—”

“Seriously, one time I thought I was pregnant after seeing it,” Amy continues. “Now go tell Chloe how you feel, kiss and make up, and have wild sex.”

“I’m not gay,” Beca insists.

Amy waves her off. “That’s irrelevant. Have you seen you two? It definitely ain’t straight.” She stands to grab a sweatshirt, heading to the door. “It’s been three years, Beca. It’s starting to get old.” And then she exits, leaving Beca alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Beca decides to do something that she rarely does: Sort out her feelings.

Her relationship with Chloe has always been… intense. But after being accosted in her shower stall freshman year by a very naked Chloe, Beca considers all of their activities—marathoning TV shows on Netflix while cuddled up in bed, stealing food off of each other’s plates, random hugs and kisses on the cheek—tame by comparison.

Beca’s never had many (any, really) female friends. Sure, the other Bellas don’t often fall asleep in each others’ beds, but Jessica and Ashley curl into each other on the same chair; Cynthia Rose and Stacie poke at each other playfully; and Aubrey was always grabbing Chloe’s hand.

Beca had never stopped to actually consider why Chloe’s touch makes her stomach erupt in butterflies, or why whenever she has good news, Chloe is the first person she wants to tell, or why she often found herself thinking about Chloe when she was supposed to be paying attention to her (ex) boyfriend.

Dammit. She’s friendzoned herself without even realizing it.

* * *

Beca goes searching for Chloe later that day. She tries the living room and the kitchen first—Chloe’s favorite study spots—before knocking on the door of her tiny single room.

“Come in,” Chloe calls, and even though her voice is muffled, she sounds tired.

Cautiously, Beca pushes open the door to see Chloe lying on her bed, staring at the wall. “Hey.”

Chloe looks at Beca briefly before turning her gaze back to the wall. “Hi.”

Beca takes Chloe not kicking her out as a good sign. “Can we talk?”

Chloe shrugs one shoulder. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry I kind of freaked out earlier,” Beca says, seating herself next to her friend on the bed.

Chloe smiles sadly. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“No, that's—” Beca struggles to find the right words. “I’m not gay.”

Chloe sits up abruptly, looking annoyed. “Beca, if you say that one more time—”

“Just hear me out.” Beca holds up her hands and waits for Chloe to close her mouth. “I’m not gay,” she says again. “But…”  _Just spit it out._  “I like you.”

Chloe blinks, her expression momentarily unreadable. Then she grins, laughing breathlessly. “Really?”

“Really,” Beca confirms, nudging Chloe’s fingers with her own until Chloe takes her hand in her own. “I know it took me forever. I’m an idiot.”

Chloe just laughs again, gently cupping Beca’s cheek. “You’re my idiot.”

Beca groans. “Please don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

“Too late!” someone from outside the door—it sounds suspiciously like Amy—calls, before several people erupt in giggles.

Beca thunks her head against Chloe’s shoulder. “Shit.”

“That’s what you get for waiting three years,” Chloe says teasingly.

“Shut up,” Beca mutters, poking Chloe in the side.

“Make me,” Chloe says, her voice low.

So Beca does—with a tongue in Chloe’s mouth and a hand in her hair.

(It kind of has the opposite effect, however.)

* * *

Amy passes them in the kitchen the next morning, very pointedly pulling out her earplugs.

Chloe just grins, kissing Beca’s reddening cheek.


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But can you write a Bechloe (mini)fic where Chloe works at a pizza store and Beca has a crush on her so she keeps ordering and this kinda happens. ---> lame-astrology(.)tumblr(.)com/post/120802848526/so-i-was-just-ordering-a-pizza-and-the-call AND BECHLOE FLUFF

Beca’s one of the few people on Earth who doesn’t really like pizza.

It’s  _okay_ , and she’ll eat it if there’s nothing else, but she’d much rather order Chinese or something.

So there’s really no feasible way that Beca can excuse the fact that she’s ordered six pizzas in two weeks.

The first time, she’d been hanging out with Jesse in her room, and she’d lost the rock-paper-scissors for what kind of food they would order. When Beca had met the deliveryperson in the lobby of her dorm, she’d been momentarily struck dumb and dropped her money all over the floor.

It wasn’t her finest moment.

It’s pathetic and creepy, Beca knows—but she just can’t get herself to stop thinking about Chloe. (She knows her name from her name tag, and she  _may_ have stumbled upon her Facebook page. Again—she knows it’s creepy.)

She’s probably gained at least ten pounds, but that doesn’t stop her from reaching for her phone and dialing the number she  _definitely_ hasn’t memorized. 

Beca surfs the channels on Kimmy Jin’s television while the line rings, stopping on an old episode of SpongeBob SquarePants. Somebody picks up the phone, but no one speaks, the sounds of distant chatter and the clanging of pans drifting through the line.

Beca waits, absently chanting, “Ravioli, ravioli give me the formuioli,” under her breath as she waits, assuming whomever answered is just busy.

Until a voice on the line laughs, soft and melodic.  _Chloe._ “Did you just call to whisper that into the phone, or are you actually going to order something?” she asks, and Beca wants to  _die_.

“Um,” Beca says, considering just hanging up the phone, but Chloe cuts her off.

“This is Beca, right?”

“What?” Beca says, even though she heard her perfectly. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize the number,” Chloe tells her. “You call here a lot.”

Beca prays to be struck by lightning, or perhaps swept away by a tornado, despite the fact that she’s indoors. “Um,” she says again, figuring the best thing she can do right now is to just order and hang up. “Could I get a small pepperoni pizza?”

“Coming right up, Bec,” Chloe says, and Beca can’t help but smile a little at the way her nickname sounds coming from Chloe’s mouth. “That’ll be $7.99.”

“Thanks,” Beca mutters, ending the call. She drops her head into her hands and groans, thankful Kimmy Jin is in the library and not around to witness her mortification.

She tries to watch the television to distract herself from the fact that she’s a total idiot, but it doesn’t really work. She waits with bated breath until her phone rings, signaling the arrival of her food.

Walking down the stairs to the lobby feels like walking to her own execution, and Beca pleads with the universe for a deliveryperson other than Chloe.

But luck is just not on her side tonight.

“Hey!” Chloe greets, holding the pizza box on one hand, and Beca thinks it unfair for her to look so attractive in a navy blue polo shirt and a visor.

“Hi,” Beca says, pulling several crumpled bills from her pocket. “Can we, uh, just pretend that thing on the phone didn’t happen?” she asks, unceremoniously shoving the money into Chloe’s hand.

“It’s already forgotten.” Chloe winks, and Beca can feel a blush creeping up her neck. “You must be a big fan of our pizza.”

“I don’t really like pizza,” Beca says, before she actually thinks about the words coming out of her mouth. 

What she’s just said doesn’t even register until Chloe looks at her quizzically, and Beca realizes she’s just fucked herself over.

“Then why do you keep ordering pizza?”

Beca decides to be honest. It’s not like she can embarrass herself any further, right? “Because you’re pretty.”

“Really?” Chloe looks so genuinely flattered that Beca starts to smile a little.

“Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, Beca gathers her courage and asks, “Would you want to maybe go out sometime? With me?”  _Duh, with you_.

Chloe doesn’t answer right away, which doesn’t really help Beca’s nerves. She digs a pen out of her pocket and scribbles something on the top of the pizza box before handing it to Beca. Looking at it, Beca sees that it’s a phone number.

“Yes,” Chloe finally accepts.

“Wow,” is all Beca can say, staring at the number scrawled across the box.

“Enjoy your pizza,” Chloe says, giving Beca a little wave before disappearing out the door, leaving Beca to consider whether memorializing this pizza box is taking it too far.


	70. Chapter 70

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca sings and plays guitar on the streets to make money, and Chloe is rich, so she drops a few hundred dollar bills in Beca's guitar case. Beca notices and says that she can't take it. Chloe insists though, so Beca asks if she can buy her a coffee at least.

When Beca decided to forgo college to pursue her passion for music, this isn’t what she’d expect.

Sure, she knew she’d probably struggle, playing crappy gigs for a few years before making it big, but she didn’t expect to be holed up on a street corner between shifts at the bar where she works tending.

She doesn’t tell her dad, of course—she doesn’t need to hear his smug, “I told you so.”

It’s not  _terrible_ ; Beca actually likes being able to just strum her guitar for hours, watching the people go about their days. Sometimes she makes particularly generous tips, but most often she just does it because she loves to play.

It’s a rather slow day—a Tuesday afternoon, when most of the actual adults with real jobs are still at work. On the quiet days, Beca tries out new songs—both new arrangements of covers and some original work. She figures she won’t miss out on too much money if it totally sucks.

She’s partway through “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry when a sharply dressed woman with red hair pulled back in a bun stops in front of her. Beca gives her a hasty smile between lines.

But then the woman starts harmonizing on the chorus. Beca looks up in surprise, her fingers stumbling a bit on the strings. The woman just smiles, maintaining eye contact as they sing. Beca has to admit, it sounds pretty damn good.

When the song ends, Beca feels oddly exhilarated. The woman doesn’t say anything; she just digs into her purse and drops several bills into Beca’s guitar case before smiling and walking away.

Beca peers into the case. That’s one… two…  _five hundred_ dollars that a stranger just gave to her. Standing quickly, Beca calls out, “Wait!”

The woman stops, turning around and retracing the several feet back to Beca. “Yes?”

Gathering the bills, Beca hands them back to the woman. “I can’t take this. It’s too much.”

The woman laughs. “If I didn’t want to give you that much, I wouldn’t have.”

“I really can’t accept this,” Beca insists, even though she definitely  _does_ want to keep it. She could buy herself some pretty fancy headphones with that kind of money.

“I believe it’s back manners to give back your tips,” the woman says. Beca flicks her eyes between the woman and the money in her hand.

“I mean…” Reluctantly, Beca drops the money back into the case. “Can I at least, like, buy you coffee or something?”

It’s kind of ridiculous, because she’s buying the woman coffee with  _her_ money, but Beca can’t just take it without doing  _something_.

“Okay,” the woman agrees. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Beca.” She shakes Chloe’s hand and quickly stuffs her guitar in its case. (She’ll deal with the money later.) “There’s a Starbucks around the corner.”

“Nice to meet you, Beca,” Chloe says, falling into stride alongside Beca.

Beca has always found Starbucks to be rather confusing. Why can’t they just call their sizes small, medium, and large? And what the hell is sugar-free syrup?

She ends up just ordering a black coffee with cream and sugar, crossing her fingers that she’ll get something normal. Chloe orders something Beca can’t even begin to understand, so she just shoves a $20 dollar bill at the cashier.

“So…” Beca says, stirring her coffee absently after they’ve seated themselves at a table in the corner. “You sing.”

Chloe nods. “I always sang growing up—most in my school choir, and I was in an a cappella group in college.”

“Cool,” Beca says, even though she thinks it all sounds pretty lame.

“What about you? You sing, obviously.” Chloe takes a sip of her strange white foamy beverage.

“I’m trying to make music a full-time thing, but it’s harder than I thought it would be,” Beca admits sheepishly. “I also work part-time at a bar.”

“Do you just do covers or do you write music, too?” Chloe asks.

“A bit of both,” Beca says. “I do rearrangements of covers and original stuff.”

They make small talk until their drinks are gone. Beca is dying to ask Chloe how she can afford to just toss $500 at a stranger on the street, but she knows enough about social mores to know that’s probably rude.

Suddenly, Chloe glances at her phone. “Oh, I have to go.” She smiles apologetically. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have to get back to work.”

“No problem,” Beca says, feeling strangely disappointed. “Thanks for the”—she gestures vaguely—”money and stuff.”

Chloe fishes something out of her purse. “Call me anytime. We’d be thrilled to work with you.” She hands Beca a business card. “I’d love to hear your original work.” She smiles again before hurrying out the door.

Beca looks down at the card in her hand, mouth dropping open.  _Residual Heat_ , it says across the top. Beca recognizes it as  _the_ recording studio in Atlanta.  _Chloe Beale: owner, producer_.


	71. Chapter 71

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song fic of “Rude” where Beca is asking Chloe’s dad for permission to marry his daughter.

“He hates me.”

“My dad does not  _hate_  you.”

“He does,” Beca insists. “He told you that he thinks you can ‘do better’!” She holds her fingers up in air quotes.

“Well,” Chloe says, wracking her brain for a rebuttal. “He doesn’t hate you,” she repeats lamely.

“See? He hates me.”

“He just thinks that you could put more…” Chloe tries to think of the right words. “Effort into your work.”

“I work full-time,” Beca argues shrilly. “I pay all my own bills.”

“I know, babe,” Chloe says, moving around the coffee table to cup Beca’s face. “I know how hard you work. My dad just doesn't… consider what you do to be real work.”

Beca can’t help but lean into the touch despite her annoyance. “Next time he’s enjoying a song on the radio you can remind him how useless music producers are,” she mutters. “Or their assistants,” she adds as an afterthought.

“He’ll learn to love you,” Chloe assures her soon-to-be-fiancée. “Especially now that we’re getting married.”

Beca grins stupidly at the word. She’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs; Chloe says “married” and she smiles. “Remind me again why I have to ask his permission to marry you?”

“It’s just a formality,” Chloe says, absently brushing a lock of hair out of Beca’s face. “We’re a southern family. You’ll get used to it.”

Beca sighs, reluctantly pulling away from Chloe to stuff her feet in her shoes. She touches her pocket to make sure the ring is still in there.

“Okay,” she says, taking Chloe’s hand and a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Chloe’s dad is intimidating.

He’s a foot taller than Beca, the small lounge chair he sits in making him look even bigger. Plus, he has a mustache, and Beca’s always been wary of men with mustaches.

“Daddy,” Chloe says, planting a kiss on her father’s forehead. “Beca has something she wants to ask you.”

Chloe’s father, Rob, gives a noncommittal grunt, waving his hand in a let’s-get-on-with-it gesture.

 _Why did I agree to do this in song again?_  Beca thinks as Chloe queues the music, giving her a little thumbs-up.  _Oh, right. Because I can’t say no to her._

Beca bounces a little on her toes as the intro starts playing.

_“Saturday morning jumped out of bed and put on my best suit._

_Got in my car and raced like a jet, all the way to you._

_Knocked on your door with heart in my hand_

_To ask you a question._

_'Cause I know that you’re an old fashioned man, yeah, yeah.”_

Rob just stares at her blankly, as if random vocal performances happen every day. (Then again, living with Chloe, they probably do.)

_“Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?_

_Say yes, say yes 'cause I need to know._

_You say I’ll never get your blessing till the day I die._

_Tough luck my friend but the answer is no!”_

Still no reaction, other than a bit of an eyebrow raise. Chloe is grinning at her from behind the chair, though, so Beca keeps going.

_“Why you gotta be so rude?_

_Don’t you know I’m human too._

_Why you gotta be so rude?_

_I’m gonna marry her anyway._

_Marry that girl_

_Marry her anyway._

_Marry that girl_

_Yeah, no matter what you say._

_Marry that girl_

_And we’ll be a family.”_

Okay, he’s definitely looking a little miffed, rubbing his hand on his chin like he doesn’t quite know what to make of the performance happening in front of him.

_“I hate to do this, you leave no choice._

_Can’t live without her._

_Love me or hate me we will be both_

_Standing at that altar._

_Or we will run away_

_To another galaxy, you know._

_You know she’s in love with me_

_She will go anywhere I go.”_

Rob looks progressively more annoyed, but Chloe is silently cheering her on, so Beca keeps going through the final hook and chorus. By the time she’s done, she’s out of breath—both from the singing and nerves.

There’s a beat of silence.

“So what you’re saying is,” Rob says, “that you’re going to marry Chloe, and there’s nothing I can do about it?”

“Um.” Beca looks to Chloe, but she just shrugs. “No?” Blank stare. “Yes?” Nothing. With slightly shaking hands, Beca pulls the ring out of her pocket. “Sir, I know we have our differences, but I love Chloe. More than anything in the world. And I  _promise_  you I’ll take good care of her, and I’ll never hurt her. Honestly"—she holds up her free hand—"if I do, you can hurt me. Like, I’ll even let you choose how—”

“Okay,” Chloe interrupts, coming to stand next to Beca with an arm around her waist. “Daddy, what do you think?”

Rob seems to consider Beca’s words for a moment, steepling his fingers, before turning to Chloe. “You want this?” Chloe nods emphatically. “You sure?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Well,” he says, pausing. “Alright.”

Chloe squeals so loudly it makes Beca’s ears ring. “Thank you, Dad!” She bounces over to Rob and wraps him in a big hug.

Beca stands back awkwardly, watching the exchange until Chloe waves her over. She holds out her hands, fingers separated.

Beca stares at her. “What?” she whispers.

“The ring,” Chloe says through gritted teeth.

“Oh. Right.” Beca fumbles with the ring, sliding it down Chloe’s finger. They both just look at it for a moment.

“We’re getting married,” Chloe says finally, voice full of awe.

Beca grins. “We’re getting married.”


	72. Chapter 72

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one with a very jealous Chloe upon meeting Beca’s ex girlfriend, accusing Beca of still being stunned upon seeing the ex. Make up sex.

They run into her in the parking lot of a Wal-Mart, of all places.

“Beca!”

Beca looks around, confused, trying to find the source of the voice.

“It’s that girl,” Chloe supplies, pointing to someone with a blond ponytail. “Do you know her?”

Beca almost chokes because,  _yeah_ , she knows her.

They’re actually rather intimately acquainted.

The girl jogs across the lot, her white sneakers slapping on the pavement. “I thought it was you.”

Beca just stares for a moment before Chloe nudges her in the side. “Um, hey, Jen.” She turns to Chloe, gesturing awkwardly. “Chloe, this is Jen, my, um… my…”

“You can just say it, Bec.” Jen laughs. “I’m her ex.”

Chloe’s eyebrows immediately shoot up. “Well, I’m Beca’s  _girlfriend_.”

Jen doesn’t seem at all affected by Chloe’s tone. “Nice to meet you.” She turns back to Beca. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Beca says, “buying food?”

“No, I mean in Atlanta.” Jen playfully smacks Beca on the arm, and Beca feels Chloe’s grip on her hand tighten.

“Oh. We go to Barden,” Beca says.

“How did I not know that?” Jen exclaims. “I’m at Georgia State.”

“I know,” Beca says, then blushes. “I mean, I saw it on Facebook.”

“We’ll totally have to hang out sometime!” Jen glances at the watch on her wrist. “I have to get going. Text me sometime. You still have my number, right?”

Beca nods; she feels Chloe’s nails digging into the back of her hand.

“Awesome. See you!” Jen gives a little wave before walking over to her car.

Immediately, Chloe tugs her hand away and stalks toward her car, unlocking it and getting in without a word to Beca.

“Dude, is something wrong?” Beca asks.

“Is something wrong?” Chloe echoes shrilly. “Your  _ex_  was just  _all over you_  and you went along with it!”

“What? No I didn’t,” Beca denies, crossing her arms. “I was just being friendly.”

“You still have her number, Beca. You’re friends with her on Facebook. You even know where she goes to school!” Chloe half-yells, gunning the car out of the parking lot.

“So? I can’t be friends with an ex?” Beca grips the armrest tightly, thanking God that campus is only a few minutes away.

“You sounded like you were smitten with her,” Chloe accuses, clenching her jaw so tightly Beca can see the muscles in her cheek jump.

“I’m not!” Beca insists. “Do you realize how irrational you’re sounding right now?”

“Irrational? Excuse me if I don’t like seeing you being  _friendly_  with your gorgeous blond ex!” Chloe shouts, parking the car in the driveway of the Bella house, cutting the engine.

Beca softens. “Chloe,” she says, reaching for her girlfriend’s hand, “I love you and only you. You’re the most beautiful girl on the planet, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

“Really?” Chloe asks, sounding small and insecure.

“Really,” Beca confirms. “Plus, Jen snores.”

“Shut up,” Chloe says, grabbing the front of Beca’s shirt to kiss her—hard and passionate, tongues and teeth colliding.

The angle is awkward; Beca has one hand next to the gearshift and one on the dashboard to keep herself from falling over, and Chloe hasn’t even taken her seatbelt off yet.

“We should take this inside,” Beca mutters breathlessly.

“No,” Chloe says, unbuckling herself and crawling into the backseat, somehow managing to take her shirt off in the process. “Here.”

Beca glances back at the house, biting her lip. Anybody walking out of the house could see them.

“ _Beca_ ,” Chloe urges, voice breathy and needy. Beca turns to see her shoving her jeans down her legs.

And really, who is Beca to say no?


	73. Chapter 73

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was based on a gifset that no longer exists so... here it is.

Chloe has an ex.

Beca knows this—just about everybody has an ex. Beca has exes.

It’s fine.

And then Beca sees her—tall, lithe body, shiny blond hair, eyebrows that could kill a man—and it’s definitely  _not_  fine.

“Remind me  _again_  why you have a German ex-girlfriend?” Beca asks through gritted teeth as she watches Kommissar (honestly,  _who_  calls themselves “Kommissar”?) chatting with her over-energized henchman across the room.

“My mom took me to the world championships my sophomore year as a birthday present,” Chloe says, shrugging. “We… met at an after party.”

“Met or slept together?” Beca throws another glare in Kommissar’s direction.

“Um,” Chloe says, “both?”

“But it wasn’t like, mind-blowing or anything, right?” Beca  _hates_  sounding needy, hates feeling insecure—but she’d literally have to be, like, Beyoncé not to feel inadequate next to Kommissar.

Chloe sighs. “Beca—”

“Chloe!” She’s cut off by Kommissar, who has come to stand in front of them in all her mesh-covered glory. “You’ve brought your little plaything. How cute.”

Beca sneers, feeling Chloe’s hand come to rest warningly on her arm.

“You are Beca, ja?” Kommissar continues. “Santa has let you off work early.” She smirks, looking down at Beca.

“Yeah,” Beca throws back, making some vague gesture with her arm. “And he told me to tell you that you  _suck_.” Beca flushes as Kommissar’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “Dude, what is  _wrong_  with me?” she mutters to Chloe, tugging at her hair anxiously.

“I believe Chloe can tell you about how well I suck.” Kommissar takes a step closer, towering over Beca.  _Why does she smell like cinnamon?_  Beca wonders absently. “You’re probably too small to do it properly.”

Beca growls—literally, actually growls. For one thing, that’s just plain  _rude_. And it’s definitely  _not_  true.

“Do you think that maybe you’re too big?” Beca shouts, moving to lunge at Kommissar.

“Whoa, okay,” Chloe says, throwing an arm up to push Beca back.

“You’re enormous!” Beca snaps, trying to move around Chloe. She just wants one good punch. “I’m surprised you didn’t suffocate Chloe with your boobs!”

Kommissar looks down at her chest and then back up, shrugging as if to say  _fair point_. It only annoys Beca more.

“Beca, calm  _down_ ,” Chloe hisses, tugging her girlfriend into an alcove. “We could get disqualified from the worlds if you hit her.”

“Really? That’s what you’re concerned about right now?” Beca cries in disbelief.

“She’s just trying to get into your head,” Chloe says, cupping Beca’s cheeks with her hands. “I’m not interested in her. I only want you.” She punctuates her words with a brief kiss.

Beca deflates slightly, sighing. “Okay.”

“Now, let’s go and meet—”

Beca suddenly inhales sharply, eyes lighting up as if remembering something. She turns to run after Kommissar, shouting, “And another thing!”

Chloe rolls her eyes. She really needs to get that kid a leash.


	74. Chapter 74

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca ends up in the hospital (severity and circumstances are your call) and we see Chloe's reaction when she's allowed to go in and see her.

“What the hell did you do to yourself?”

“It’s wonderful to see you, too, Chloe. I’m going to live, no need to worry. I only broke my collarbone. Totally fine.”

Chloe just rolls her eyes and drops down into the chair next to the hospital bed. Beca looks childlike in the paisley johnny, wrapped in blankets, left arm in a sling and a noticeable bump on her forehead.

“For the record,” Beca starts, “it wasn’t my idea.”

“Oh, really?” Chloe smooths her hand over the blanket. “Whose was it, then?”

“Amy’s.”

Chloe groans. “How many times have I told you not to let Amy choreograph  _anything_? Under any circumstances.  _Ever_.”

Beca shrugs her good shoulder, wincing a little. “It looked cool in the YouTube video.”

“What, exactly, were you trying to do?”

“It’s, like, this thing where”—Beca raises her arm to gesture, but quickly lowers it, grimacing in pain—”you step onto someone’s hand, and they throw you up and catch you like this.” Beca gingerly lifts her right hand, and cups in palm-up against her shoulder.

Chloe rubs at her temples. “And how did this go wrong? Because I can think of many ways.”

“I crashed into the piano.”

“Ah,” Chloe says, smiling a little at the image of Beca being flung face-first at the piano. (She’s a terrible person, she knows.) 

“Emily cried,” Beca continues. “But it’s cool, because they gave me these really awesome painkillers,” she says proudly, patting her chest gently.

“That’s nice.”

“If you stare at the ceiling long enough, it starts moving.” Beca tips her head back against the pillow, and Chloe notices for the first time that her eyes are a little glassy.

“I’m sure it does, Bec,” Chloe tells her, taking her right hand.

“There it goes again!”

“How are we doing?” Chloe looks up to see a middle-aged nurse enter the room with a clipboard tucked under her arm.

“I’m  _great_ ,” Beca says emphatically.

Chloe discreetly waves a finger in a circle next to her ear, and the nurse suppresses a smile.

“Who’s your friend, Beca?” the nurse asks, checking Beca’s IV.

“I’m Chloe.” She doesn’t quite trust Beca not to say something inappropriate right now. “Her girlfriend.”

“I’m Alice,” the nurse says with a smile.

“I like her,” Beca adds, pointing to Chloe.

“I bet you do.” Alice turns to Chloe. “We want to keep her here a little longer for observation, just in case she starts showing signs of a concussion.”

“Okay, thanks,” Chloe says.

“I don’t have a concussion.” Beca shakes her head back and forth as Alice lets herself out of the room. “I want to leave.”

“They just want to be sure,” Chloe tells her, patting her hand.

“I don’t,” Beca insists, slipping her hand out from Chloe’s to hold up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Chloe just facepalms.

She’s going to  _kill_ Amy.


	75. Chapter 75

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again based on a post that no longer exists

Beca’s not usually one to respond to ads that start with “Want to make money?” because she’s heard too many stories about girls ending up dead in random apartments.

But all anyone can talk about is the new Jennifer Lawrence film that’s going to be shooting near Barden in a couple of days, so Beca figures this one’s legit.

Plus, how hard can being an extra be?

After standing in line for ten years, a crew member wordlessly ushers Beca to a little table in an Italian restaurant where they’ve set up filming and seats her across from a redheaded girl in a floral-print dress. The table is laid out with food, which the crew member tells Beca to eat slowly during takes.

“Hi,” the girl says brightly, her easy smile revealing even, white teeth. “I’m Chloe.”

“Beca.” She shakes Chloe’s hand, noticing the evenly manicured fingernails. (Chloe, it seems, is more put together on one day than Beca has ever been in her entire life combined.)

An assistant calls their attention through a (rather unnecessary, Beca thinks) bullhorn. He instructs them to behave as though they’re out for dinner—and Beca can’t help but think,  _duh_ ,  _we’re in a restaurant_.

(How is it that these Hollywood actors make so much money?)

“Just have normal conversations,” the man barks before he calls, “aaaand… action!”

Chloe immediately grabs Beca’s hand, tracing patterns on her palm with her finger. Beca tries not to look as alarmed as she feels.

“So, Beca, tell me about yourself,” Chloe says, giving her an easy smile.

“Um.” Beca tries to smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace. “I go to Barden University—”

“Me, too!” Chloe exclaims, and Beca’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Cool,” she says, noticing for the first time that Chloe’s eyes are  _really_ blue.

“I’m a senior studying music education,” Chloe tells her, leaning forward a little.

“Freshman. Undeclared,” Beca says. 

“Do you have any idea about what you want to study?” Chloe asks as the assistant shouts, “Cut!” followed by a flurry of activity.

Beca shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really know if I’m going to stay in college.”

“Really?” Chloe’s eyebrows knit together. “Why?”

There’s a shout of “Action!” again, and Beca starts to appreciate what actors do a little more now—because it’s  _really_ fucking annoying.

“I want to move to LA,” Beca says, noting that Chloe is full-on holding her hand now. “I want to be a music producer someday, so I need to start paying my dues as a company as soon as possible.”

“That’s really cool,” Chloe says earnestly. Beca’s eyes trace the curve of her lips as she smiles. “What are you doing at Barden, then?”

“My dad is making me,” Beca explains with a roll of her eyes.

“Wait!” Chloe half-shouts, holding up the hand that’s not entwined with Beca’s. 

Beca’s eyes widen, looking around. “What?”

“Are you the Beca who works at WBUJ?” Chloe asks.

“Um, yeah,” Beca says slowly. “Why?”

“I  _love_ your music,” Chloe gushes, eyes shining as she leans in even more. “I’ve been wondering for so long who you were. You’re amazing,” she says, softer now.

Beca can’t help but smile goofily. This girl is a character. “Thanks.”

She doesn’t even realize that the director has called cut until his assistant is towering over their table.

“Excuse me,” he says, his voice high and nasal.

Beca looks up. “Yeah?”

“Can you two maybe cool it?” he asks, and Beca’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. The man huffs and crosses his arms. “You’re distracting from the  _actual_  characters who are supposed to be the ones making eyes and looking like they’re falling in love.  _Not_  a couple of random extras.”

“Wait, what?” Beca blushes and glances at Chloe, who is biting her lip to suppress a smile.  _Of course she thinks this is funny_. 

“We’ll tone it down, I promise,” Chloe tells the man, tone serious.

“Wonderful,” the man says, but Beca suspects he’s being sarcastic. 

They’re quiet until action is called again, Beca too stunned to speak.

“You know,” Chloe says, trailing a finger along the rim of her water glass, “if you wanted to take me on a date, you could have just asked.”

“Shut up.” Beca picks a grade tomato off of the salad in front of her and chucks it at Chloe.

Chloe squeals and ducks, tossing a chunk of bread back.

Needless to say, neither of them make any money that day.


	76. Chapter 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trans!Beca coming out to Chloe

Beca is four years old when she first realizes she’s different.

During playtime in preschool, a girl in her class tells her that trucks are for boys. So Beca reasons she’s a boy.

Apparently, that’s incorrect—because when her teacher tells the boys to line up to go to the bathroom, Beca is sent back to her seat with a stern admonishment of, “You’re a  _girl_.”

She’s confused. Not confused about her gender—she  _knows_ she’s a boy—but confused as to why no one believes her. Confused as to why people keep shoving pink down her throat and making her wear dresses. She doesn’t understand why the other kids laugh at her when she tells them she’s not a girl.

By third grade, the boys at her school stop thinking Beca’s cool for being into football and monster trucks and start thinking she’s weird.

It’s lonely.

Everyone tells her she’s wrong—that she’s a freak, that this is  _not_ how girls are supposed to behave.

After a while, she starts to believe them.

She’s eleven when she first comes across the term “transgender.” It’s way past her bedtime, and if her parents knew she was on the computer they’d kill her, but she wants to scream, to shout to everyone that her feelings are real, that she’s valid.

It’s then that she starts thinking of herself with masculine pronouns and calling herself Ben—if only in her head.

Ben stays up past his bedtime the next night, scouring the Internet for information about his identity. He wants to be  _sure_ before he tells anyone.

He finds a movie called  _Boys Don’t Cry_ , and even though it’s rated R and he knows he shouldn’t, he downloads it and watches it under his blankets.

It  _terrifies_  him, and he thinks with horror that he can’t ever tell anyone who he truly is.

So he stays quiet. Answers to “Beca” and “she” and “her.” Grits his teeth and wears the dress his grandmother buys him for Christmas. 

He hates himself, and wants to crawl out of his skin on a daily basis. 

Better miserable than dead, he figures.

* * *

And then Ben meets Chloe.

Chloe is beautiful, and smart, and doesn’t seem put off by his extensive flannel collection. She thinks Ben is a girl (she’s seen him naked, after all), and he doesn’t correct her, but she also doesn’t seem to care that he doesn’t brush his hair half the time or ever wear dresses.

Chloe says she loves him, and Ben believes her. He loves her, too. He’s never felt more loved by anyone.

So he makes a decision.

* * *

It’s a Tuesday, and they’re hanging out in Ben’s room. There’s nothing special about the moment—it just so happens that it’s when he gets a surge of confidence.

“I need to tell you something,” Ben says, abruptly closing his laptop and discarding it next to him on the bed.

Chloe looks a little confused at the turn of events, but she smiles softly and says, “Sure, anything.”

“I’m…” Ben looks down at their joined hands and takes a deep breath. “I’m transgender.” Chloe’s eyes widen, and she doesn’t say anything for a moment, so Beca adds, “I’m a boy.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Chloe says gently, like she’s afraid Ben might startle and run off. “That must have been hard to do.” 

Ben is speechless for a minute, stunned that Chloe hasn’t run screaming in the other direction. “Yeah.”

“Can you tell me what this means to you?” Chloe asks. “I mean, I know what transgender means.” She laughs a little. “My little cousin is trans.”

Ben’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He doesn’t think he’s ever met another trans person—but then again, maybe he didn’t even realize that he had.

“What would you like me to call you? I want to make sure you feel as comfortable as possible.”

“Ben,” he says, and it feels strange coming out of his mouth for the first time. “My name is Ben.“

“Hi, Ben,” Chloe says, and it feels  _so good_ to hear. “What pronouns do you use?”

“He and him.” It’s hard to get the words out around the lump Ben feels forming in his throat—no one has ever thought to ask his pronouns before.

“I love you.” Chloe cups his face in her hands, wiping away the tear that spills out. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you, too,” Ben tells her, wondering how on earth he, of all people, is lucky enough to have Chloe Beale.

“Does anyone else know?”

Ben shakes his head. “You’re the only one.” Chloe kisses him, soft and tenderly.

“What’s next?” Chloe asks when they part, and Ben knits his eyebrows slightly in confusion. “Do you want to starting taking hormones? Not that I’m trying to rush you into anything,” she adds hastily. “But I’m here to help you with anything.”

Ben pauses.  _Am I ready to come out?_ He only has to look at Chloe—to see the love shining from her eyes—to make his decision.

“I think,” he says, “I want to tell my parents.”

“I’ll come with you,” Chloe promises, wrapping Ben in a tight hug.

A year ago, Ben could’t picture his life past his next birthday.

Today, he can see the rest of his life with Chloe at his side.


	77. Chapter 77

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe are in high school and they are best friends. Chloe has feelings for Beca but doesn’t tell Beca because she is always checking out other chicks, but one day she just gets tired of it and kisses Beca or tells her her feelings.

Beca is what Chloe has come to think of as a theoretical player.

As in, Beca’s constantly leering at other girls, nudging Chloe in the side with a comment of, “Did you see the ass on that one?” but she never actually asks any of them out.

It’s annoying, but it’s not because Chloe is jealous.

(Okay, maybe it is.)

No matter what she does, Chloe can’t seem to catch Beca’s attention—she wears short-shorts and a low-cut top and Beca doesn’t even blink. She makes flirty comments and brushes her fingers over Beca’s arm and Beca just rolls her eyes. She even dropped her pencil once and picked it up with the bend and snap, but Beca just gave her a strange look and asked if she was feeling okay.

It’s incredibly frustrating, but Chloe supposes she can’t blame Beca for not returning her feelings. Still, she can’t help but hold onto the hope that maybe,  _maybe_  Beca doesn’t go after other girls because she has latent feelings for Chloe.

* * *

They’re lucky enough to have gym the last period of the day, so half the time Chloe doesn’t even bother changing out of her gym clothes. She perches on a bench, waiting for Beca to finish gathering her things—which is taking much more time than it should, because Beca keeps stopping to stare at the other girls in the locker room.

It’s kind of creepy, and Chloe hisses, “We need to talk,” dragging Beca into one of the empty sports teams’ locker room.

“Dude, what?” Beca drops her bag on the floor and crosses her arms.

“You can’t just stare at other girls while they’re changing,” Chloe admonishes, and Beca scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“You dragged me in here to tell me that?” Beca asks. She has that smug smirk on her face that she always does when she’s about to say something inappropriate. “Have you  _seen_ —”

Something inside Chloe snaps;  _fuck it,_ she thinks, and surges forward, pinning Beca against the lockers.

“What the hell—?” Beca protests, holding her hands up. She barely has time to get the words out before Chloe presses their lips together, hard and aggressive as she nips at Beca’s bottom lip.

It’s over pretty quickly; Chloe pulls back to look at Beca’s face, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What,” Beca says, panting a little, “was that?” Chloe thinks she detects a hint of a smile on her face.

“That was me shutting you up,” Chloe replies, slightly breathless herself.

“Well, you could have asked.”

“You never shut up when I ask you to,” Chloe says.

“No,” Beca clarifies, waving her hand. “I meant you could have just asked me out a long time ago. You could’ve saved yourself some trouble.”

Chloe reels back in surprise. “What?”

“If you had just told me you liked me I wouldn’t have had to try so hard to make myself move on,” Beca says with a shrug, her cheeks tinged pink.

“Oh,” is all Chloe can say. Then, “Is that why you’re always acting like a horny teenage boy?”

“I object to that phrasing,” Beca says, shoving at Chloe’s shoulder.

“Would you object to bowling on Friday night?” Chloe asks with a shy smile.

“Normally, yes,” Beca says, scrunching up her nose, “because bowling is unsanitary.  _But_  I won’t, because it’s you.”

Chloe’s grin widens. “Then it’s a date.” She turns and bends over to pick her bag up off of the floor, and she hears Beca whistle.

“Damn, girl,” Beca teases.

Chloe just rolls her eyes.


	78. Chapter 78

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a follow up to the prompt about Beca and Jesse being twins and having crushes on Chloe and Aubrey? like it could be the double date or even after that like what happened after the date or something?

It’s kind of weird going on a date with your brother.

Jesse keeps making these goo-goo eyes at Aubrey that kind of make Beca want to gag, and at one point he feeds her a French fry from his mouth in a similar fashion to that movie with the talking dogs that eat spaghetti.

However, it’s tolerable, and the gentle pressure of Chloe’s hand on Beca’s thigh is a good distraction from whatever strange mating rituals are playing out in front of her.

Chloe murmurs small talk in Beca’s ear, breath hot against her cheek, like they’re in their own personal bubble. She brushes Beca’s hair back out of her face, setting Beca’s skin on fire wherever her fingers brush. Chloe’s thumb absently rubs back and forth over Beca’s thigh as she steals pieces of Beca’s fried chicken (which Beca pretends to be annoyed about, but doesn’t actually mind at all). Jesse occasionally gives her a knowing look, which only makes Beca flush harder than she already is.

Basically, it’s the most painfully wonderful two hours of her life.

Chloe loves music. Beca knew that she was in the school chorus, but she was surprised to find that Chloe seemed to almost ( _almost_ ) match Beca’s passion. Beca invites Chloe over later in the week to show her how she makes her mixes—a sentence that Beca’s proud to say came out coherently and with only two “um”s. 

The only issue they run into comes at the end of the night, when it comes time to drop off Aubrey and Chloe—trying to figure out who’s going to walk whom to the door and when.

They decide that Jesse will walk Aubrey to the door while Beca and Chloe wait in the car to give them privacy, and then Beca will do the same. It’s a little awkward just sitting in the back of the car, watching Jesse kiss Aubrey good night, but Chloe is holding Beca’s hand gently, like she doesn’t want to startle her.

Finally, Jesse comes back, and Beca reluctantly lets go of Chloe’s hand to get out of the car. Luckily, Chloe grabs it again as they head up the front walk.

“I had fun tonight,” Chloe says, smiling softly.

“Me, too.” Beca can’t help but notice how the outdoor light illuminates Chloe from behind like a halo. “We should do it again sometime.”

“We are,” Chloe reminds her. “I’m coming over on Thursday.”

“Right.” Hopefully Chloe can’t see her blush in the dark.

And then suddenly Chloe’s face is nearing Beca’s own, and Beca blinks a few times to be sure it’s actually happening.

Chloe rests her hand softly against Beca’s cheek as she presses their lips together. It’s a very PG kiss—light pressure for no more than five seconds—but it makes Beca’s head spin.

“Good night,” Chloe whispers against Beca’s lips, and all Beca can do is nod before Chloe slips into the house.

Beca stands there for a moment, fingers pressed to her lips, before Jesse honks the horn at her.

Going on a date with your brother is definitely weird (and  _annoying_ , Beca thinks as she hurries back to the car), but it’s still the best one Beca’s ever had.


	79. Chapter 79

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a lovechild AU drabble of Emily's first day of preschool? Possibly one in which Beca is the sentimental one and Chloe has to reassure her everything's gonna be fine?

“Our daughter is all grown up.”

“She’s three, Beca.”

“She’s practically an adult! She’ll be driving soon.”

“Are you  _crying_?”

“No,” Beca denies, turning away and wiping at her eyes. She glances across the room where Emily is happily scribbling on a piece of paper with a little boy (whom Beca is  _almost_ sure she saw smack another kid when they first arrived).

Chloe wraps an arm around her wife, pulling her in close, shaking her head a little. This is the same Beca who one time handed Emily a paring knife to cut her own apple, and who tried to convince Chloe that two-year-old Emily would look “totally badass” with an ear spike.

“You know we’re coming to pick her up in a few hours, right?” Chloe asks. “We’re not, like, giving her away to get married.”

“Oh, God,” Beca says, eyes widening, “she’s gonna be getting  _married_ soon!”

Chloe can’t help but roll her eyes. “It’s just the first day of preschool, babe. One day at a time.”

“What if she gets hurt?” Beca tightly coils a piece of hair around her index finger, something she does when she’s anxious. “What if she falls and hits her head or something?”

Chloe rubs soothing circles on Beca’s back, trying not to laugh. “They’re reading books and eating snacks, not riding dirt bikes.”

“Mommy!” Emily comes darting through the classroom, holding a piece of paper with random scribbles on it. “Look!” 

“Let me see,” Beca coos, scooping Emily into her arms. “Oh, how beautiful!” She plants a big kiss on her daughter’s cheek.

It’s grossly cute in a way Chloe never thought Beca would be with Emily—when Chloe had first broached the topic of kids, Beca’s response had been a shrug and a noncommittal, “I guess.”

“Dis you,” Emily says, pointing to a blue blob, “and dis mama, and dis me.”

“A masterpiece.” Beca kisses Emily several times in succession until their daughter is squirming and demanding to be put down.

Emily runs away to a pile of blocks, leaving Beca holding the drawing.

“Hopefully this place teaches her some shapes,” Beca mutters, looking at the random scribbles and swirls, and Chloe chuckles, kissing Beca’s temple. Beca waves her off;  _Like mother, like daughter,_ Chloe thinks.

“Okay, parents,” Emily’s teacher—Miss Jane or Miss Joan or Miss Jess or something—calls, clapping her hands together. “Drop-off time is over. We’ll see you all at two.”

Chloe turns to leave, but after two steps she notices Beca hasn’t moved. “Beca, come on.”

“But I didn’t get to hug her goodbye,” Beca says, sounding panicked as Chloe tries to guide her to the door by the shoulders.

“Beca, we have to leave at some point,” Chloe says gently, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “We’ll see her in a few hours.” Beca hesitates, biting her lip uncertainly. Chloe cups Beca’s chin, forcing eye contact. “She’ll be  _fine_.”

Beca glances at Emily again before deflating. “Okay,” she agrees, taking Chloe’s hand and heading out the door. “But,” she says, lowering her voice, “I might need you to  _distract_  me once we’re home.”

Chloe winks. “You got it.”


	80. Chapter 80

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You did a soulmate AU with the first words ever spoken to each other is tattooed on their arms and I was wondering you could do a part 2?

Beca’s still not a romantic. 

The words “I love you” feel strange coming out of her mouth without a “dude” tacked on the end.

She doesn’t surprise Chloe with breakfast in bed, or rose petals leading to a candlelit bedroom, or buy mushy Valentine’s Day cards. It’s just not her.

It’s easier to express herself through music, because she can ensure that it’s perfect before anyone listens to it. Beca’s made Chloe hundreds of mixes over the years—gross romantic love songs mixed with tunes from Chloe’s favorite musicals mashed up with whatever top 40 song Chloe’s been humming that week.

When she and Chloe officially became girlfriends, Beca made her a mashup of Beyoncé’s “Halo” and Katrina and the Waves’ “Walking on Sunshine.” 

After the first time they slept together, Beca teasingly made Chloe a mix of “Horny ‘98” and “Bohemian Like You.”

The day after Chloe proposed, Beca accepted with a mashup of Madonna’s “Cherish” and The Association’s “Cherish.”

Beca gives Chloe a mix of twenty-seven of the grossest love songs she can find as a wedding present.

After finding out that Chloe is pregnant, Beca crams together as many songs that have the word “baby” in it, and then serenades her wife with “(You’re) Having My Baby” until Chloe presses her against the wall to make her shut up.

Emily is born with the words, “Did I hear a mention of dreams?” printed on her arm, so Beca mashes together “Dream a Little Dream of Me” and “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes,” and plays it for Emily every night as she falls asleep.

When she’s eight, Emily asks about the words still inked on Beca and Chloe’s arms. They recount their college days as a cappella champions over dinner, and Emily immediately begs for piano and singing lessons.

Beca doesn’t have any mixes for the day they drop Emily off at Barden with all of the hectic activity that comes with moving. Instead, she just leans into Chloe with an arm around her as they watch their daughter enter the place that brought them together to pursue the music that solidified their love.


	81. Chapter 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca is always running off in stores so the next time they go shopping with the Bellas Chloe puts a child backpack leash on Beca and just funniness happens?

It started as a joke.

Beca is constantly wandering off in stores—usually in search of a bench or a chair so she can pout about being dragged there in the first place, but sometimes Chloe will find her walking aimlessly up and down the aisles, some odd item (fuzzy socks, a package of Oreos, a $70 labelmaker) clutched in her hands.

The mall is a particularly hazardous place.

Half the time, Chloe never ends up buying what she’d intended to because she’d gotten distracted by hunting down Beca.

So Chloe had said— _jokingly_ —that she was going to buy Beca one of those kiddie leashes for the next time they went shopping.

It’s not her fault Amy takes everything literally.

“She’s going to  _kill_  us,” Chloe mutters as the Bellas pile into the minibus for their bi-monthly shopping-slash-bonding excursion.

Amy just grins and shrugs, and Chloe can’t help but giggle. Pushing Beca’s buttons is one of her favorite pastimes.

“Hey, Bec,” Chloe says casually, sliding into the seat next to Beca. “I got you a present.”

Beca turns the plush monkey over in her hands, looking confused. “Um, thanks?”

Chloe unravels the monkey’s tail, which constitutes the leash, smirking at the way Beca’s eyes widen. “It’s so you can’t run away from us.”

Beca stares at her for a moment before shoving the monkey back into Chloe’s hands. “Very funny.”

“I didn’t say I was joking.”

“I’m an  _adult_ , Chloe,” Beca says slowly. “I am perfectly capable of walking around a mall without supervision.”

“Oh, come on, Beca,” Stacie chimes in from behind them. “We always have to spend, like, half an hour looking for you. Plus, it’d be cute.”

“Have you ever considered the magical technology of the cellular phone?” Beca asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You don’t even answer yours half the time,” Stacie says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Wear the backpack, wear the backpack,” she starts chanting. “Wear the backpack.”

Half the bus chimes in, and Beca grabs the backpack out of Chloe’s hands and smacks her on the arm with it. “You can all stick this backpack up your—”

“We’re here!” Amy announces, and the Bellas start to file off of the bus.

“You coming, Bec?” Chloe asks, standing up.

“No.” Beca crosses her arms over her chest.

Chloe immediately sits back down, grabbing Beca’s hand. “Are you mad?” she asks, voice small.

“No,” Beca says, “but you’re a colossal pain the ass sometimes.”  
  
Chloe grins. “Just doing my job. Now, are you coming?”

“Are you going to stop bugging me?” Beca looks at Chloe suspiciously.

“If you promise to stay within ten feet of me,” Chloe says, tugging Beca up by her hands.

Beca huffs and rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

Chloe just pecks her on the nose.


	82. Chapter 82

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca and Chloe (and maybe another Bella like Emily) are at the fair and the other Bella and Chloe have to convince Beca to go on a roller coaster.

“Nope.”

“But—”

“No.”

“ _Please?_ ”

“Uh-uh.”

“Why not?”

“No.”

Chloe stomps her foot. “That’s not an answer.”

“‘No’ is a complete sentence,” Beca says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Didn’t Oprah say that?” Emily asks, but she’s ignored.

“You’re no fun,” Chloe says.

“Excuse you,” Beca says, looking offended, “but I’m  _tons_  of fun. Right, Em?”

“So much fun,” Emily agrees with a smile, looking happy just to be included in the conversation.

“Come on,” Chloe pleads, trying to unfold Beca’s arms. “The roller coaster is my favorite ride.”

“You are welcome to go on the roller coaster,” Beca tells her. “I will stay right here, adhering to the laws of gravity.”

Chloe’s frown suddenly softens. “Bec, are you scared?”

“What? No.” Beca averts her eyes, reddening slightly. “I just… value my life.”

“Beca, roller coasters are totally safe,” Chloe says, succeeding in untangling Beca’s arms and linking their fingers together.

“Actually,” Emily chimes in from behind them, “the risk of a roller coaster accident is higher than that of a shark attack.”

“Emily!” Chloe hisses through clenched teeth.

“Sorry!”

“See?” Beca says, indignant. “You can go ride the death trap, and I’ll wait right here with all of my limbs still attached to my body.”

“You’re not going to get hurt,” Chloe says exasperatedly. Beca just shakes her head, and Chloe realizes she’s not going to convince her with logic. “Please?” she asks softly, batting her eyelashes and leaning in closer. “For me?”

Beca sucks in a harsh breath through her nose, trying to steel herself, but Chloe can see her resolve breaking.

“It would make me really happy,” Chloe continues, her mouth practically on Beca’s ear. She sees Beca’s eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“Fine,” Beca finally concedes, a bit breathlessly.

“Really?” Chloe squeals, hugging Beca tightly, and she hears Emily let out a whoop.

“Yes,” Beca says, sounding annoyed. “But if I die, it’s your fault.”

“You can hold my hand,” Chloe assures her, letting Beca go and dragging her towards the line for the ride. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Beca’s already agreed to go on the ride, but Chloe plants a big, wet kiss on her cheek anyway, just to watch her get all flustered.


	83. Chapter 83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-shot about Beca being confused because of some kind of medication and Chloe came to see her and Beca confess that she likes Chloe and then says something like, “But shhh, don’t tell Chloe.” They are just friends and of course Chloe likes her too. And they talk about it when Beca is better.

Drunk Beca is very entertaining.

But drugged Beca? Drugged Beca is ten times better.

It’s half the reason Chloe agreed to take care of Beca after she got her wisdom teeth out. (Of course, the other half is because she loves her.)

She’d managed to get Beca, cheeks puffy and movements spastic, strapped into the passenger seat of her car after the procedure. Beca’s head keeps lolling from side to side, and at one point she kept waving her hand back and forth in front of her face.

It’s a little hard for Chloe to understand what Beca says, because her tongue is still partially numbed from the anesthetic, but it’s all nonsense anyway.

“Who d'you think invented socks?” Beca slurs, staring absently out the window. “Like, who looked at shoes ‘n said, 'We need li'l pieces of fabric under these.’”

“I don’t know, Becs,” Chloe says, trying not to laugh.

The rest of the ride is uneventful, save for the fact that Beca kept trying to push the button for the emergency lights

Getting Beca up the stairs and into her bed is an ordeal, but she’s small enough that Chloe can half-drag her there.

“Here, take these,” Chloe says, placing two of the painkillers the surgeon had prescribed into Beca’s mouth, helping her take a sip of water. She notices Beca staring at her intently. “What?” she asks, setting the water on the nightstand.

“You’re pretty,” Beca says, a warped half-smile on her still-numbed face.

“Thanks, Bec.” Chloe chuckles, fluffing the pillows behind Beca and smoothing the blanket over her. “You too.” It’s true—even with chipmunk cheeks and smudged eyeliner, Beca is still beautiful.

Chloe gently kisses Beca’s forehead, and turns to leave to let Beca sleep off the medication, but Beca grabs her hand.

“Stay here,” Beca urges, tugging Chloe to the bed.

“Yes, ma'am.” Chloe crawls under the covers next to Beca, wrapping an arm around her middle and snuggling in close. Beca still smells a little like antiseptic.

“I have a secret,” Beca whispers after a few moments, tucking her head into the crook of Chloe’s neck.

Chloe tangles their fingers together, resting them on Beca’s stomach. “What is it?” she asks.

“You can’t tell Chloe,” Beca says seriously, voice hushed.

“I won’t,” Chloe promises, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“I love her,” Beca confesses.

A grin spreads over Chloe’s face, and she presses another kiss to her hair. “She loves you, too.”

“Not like I love her,” Beca says, sounding sad. It makes Chloe’s stomach flip. “I love her"—Beca pulls her hand away, holding her hands a couple feet apart—"this much.” She yawns.

“She does love you,” Chloe repeats, squeezing Beca tighter. “I promise.”

Beca just shakes her head and yawns again. “I want to marry her,” she says, voice fading as she falls asleep.

Chloe’s eyebrows shoot up, and there’s a tightness in her chest. “I’d say yes,” she says, but Beca’s already asleep.

* * *

Beca wakes up a few hours later with a muttered, “Fuck, my face.”

She’s back, Chloe thinks, closing her laptop. Her paper can wait. “How are you feeling?” she asks, brushing the hair out of Beca’s face.

“Like the tooth fairy tried to run over my face with a truck,” Beca complains, pushing herself into a sitting position.

Chloe looks at the time on her phone. “You can take two more of the painkillers now,” she says, pointing to the bottle on the nightstand.

Beca unscrews the lid and pops two in her mouth, gingerly sipping at the water. “Thanks for driving me,” she says. “Was I totally loopy?”

Chloe laughs. “A little. You wanted to know who invented socks.”

“I did?” Beca thinks for a moment. “I don’t remember that, but it’s a reasonable question.”

“So…” Chloe says, her stomach twisting. “You don’t remember the other thing you said to me?”

Beca’s eyes widen in alarm. “No. What did I say?” She grimaces. “Was it offensive? Or embarrassing?”

“No, it wasn’t anything bad,” Chloe assures her, pulling at a loose thread on the blanket. “You just, um, told me that you loved me.”

“I did?” Beca whispers, sounding horrified.

“Yeah.” Chloe holds her hands apart. “This much, to be exact. And also that you wanted to marry me.”

“Fuck.” Beca drops her head into her hands. “It was just the drugs,” she says, but she won’t meet Chloe’s eyes and her face is bright red. Chloe knows her well enough to know when she’s lying.

“Do you remember what I said after?” Chloe asks, putting a hand on Beca’s knee. Beca just shakes her head. “I said that I love you, too. And"—she shrugs—"that I would say yes.”

Beca picks her head up to look at Chloe. “What?”

“I love you, too,” Chloe says simply.

“Oh.” Beca licks her lips. “Are we engaged now?”

“No,” Chloe says with a teasing smile. “You haven’t even taken me on a date yet.”

“Oh,” Beca repeats. “Friday?”

Chloe scoots closer, resting her head on Beca’s shoulder. “Friday.”


	84. Chapter 84

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca Mitchell is probably the most adorable pregnant woman EVER! Even Aubrey thinks so.

Beca Mitchell is probably the most adorable pregnant woman ever.

Even Aubrey thinks so.

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Chloe warns over a mug of tea, but she agrees. The baby bump is such a contrast to her skinny arms and legs, which these days Beca waddles around on like a penguin.

“Chloe, where are my headphones?” Beca barks from the bedroom.

A cranky, disgruntled penguin.

“They’re on the coffee table, babe,” Chloe says when Beca appears in the threshold of the kitchen. “I made you tea.”

Beca’s face softens. “Thanks.”

For the most part, it’s been fun—ultrasounds, shopping for baby supplies, decorating the nursery. Chloe massages Beca’s swollen feet in the evenings as she sings to her belly; the baby particularly likes Taylor Swift, which Beca complains about constantly but Chloe secretly thinks she doesn’t mind. Especially when the baby kicks. 

As Beca nears her due date, however, she’s become irritable, tired of people touching her stomach without her permission and having to pee every five minutes. (Chloe thinks she’s also anxious to meet their new daughter as well.)

“How are you doing, Beca?” Aubrey asks. It isn’t often that she gets away from her hectic job at the law firm, but she’s flown in in anticipation of the baby’s arrival, which Chloe is beginning to pray will be sooner rather than later.

“Like there’s a human inside of me,” Beca says dryly, dropping into a chair and sipping the tea Chloe places in front of her.

Aubrey rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You do have that glow, I have to say.”

Beca scoffs. “The whole pregnancy glow thing is bullshit,” she says, even as she has one hand resting protectively on her belly, “made up by men to get women to willingly agree to breeding.”

Aubrey changes the subject. “Have you guys thought about names?”

“We were thinking Bella as a middle name,” Chloe says, and Aubrey claps her hands, “but we haven’t decided on a first.”

“What about Carolyn?” Aubrey suggests, and Beca shakes her head emphatically. “Why not?”

“Carolyn was the weird horse girl in my third grade class,” Beca says.

Aubrey frowns. “That’s hardly a reason not to name your daughter that.”

“Excuse me, but are you the one with a small child inside of your body?” Beca snaps.

“Okay,” Chloe cuts in, moving to stand behind Beca to massage her shoulders. “We won’t name her Carolyn.”  _Hormones_ , she mouths to Aubrey over Beca’s head.

“How did the birthing class last week go?” Aubrey asks. Chloe had forgotten she’d mentioned it in an email to Aubrey, and she winces, knowing what Beca’s going to say. 

“ _Stupid_ ,” Beca tells her. “You think breathing exercises are going to change the fact that there’s a  _person_ coming out of my—” Suddenly, Beca stops talking.

“Babe?” Chloe asks in alarm. “What’s wrong?” She notices Beca is looking down in her lap, and Chloe leans over her should to look. There’s a large we spot on the insides of Beca’s thigh. Her heart clenches for Beca, and she says as gently as she can, “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up—”

“Jesus Christ, Chlo, I didn’t piss myself,” Beca interrupts, exasperated. “My water just broke.”

 _Oh_. “Oh,” Chloe says. She just stands there, overwhelmed. They’re about to have a baby.

Luckily, Aubrey springs into action. “Where’s the bag?” she asks, and Beca points to the hall closet. “Chloe.” Aubrey snaps her fingers as she walks by. “Let’s go; you’re having a baby.”

“We’re having a baby,” Chloe echoes, mostly to herself.

“ _I’m_ having a baby,” Beca grumbles, heaving herself out of her seat. 

Aubrey comes back with a small overnight bag in hand and helps Beca slip on a pair of shoes. “Coming, Chloe?” she asks, giving Chloe a strange look.

“Emily.”

“What?”

“Emily,” Chloe repeats. “Let’s name her Emily.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees with a smile, which quickly turns to a grimace. “Fuck,” she grits out. 

“Come  _on_ ,” Aubrey shouts from the door.

Chloe grabs Beca’s hand. “Let’s go meet our daughter.”


	85. Chapter 85

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For two people on ff.net—one who wanted a fic in celebration of the SCOTUS ruling, and one who wanted Bechloe getting engaged with a mention of this prompt.

A high-pitched scream pulls Beca out of her mixing zone, and she rips off her headphones and runs into the living room to find the source of the noise.

“Chloe? What is it? Are you o—”

“Look!”

Beca skids to a stop, socks sliding on the hardwood floor. Chloe is sitting on the couch, perfectly fine, eyes glued to the television. Beca’s about to scold her for screaming like she was being murdered for absolutely no reason when she reads the banner at the bottom of the screen:  _Supreme Court Legalizes Same-Sex Marriage in all 50 States._

“Wow,” Beca says. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Let’s get married.” Chloe turns and looks at Beca.

“Um, what?”

“Let’s get married,” Chloe repeats. She gestures to the TV. “It’s legal in Georgia now.”

“Chloe,” Beca says slowly, moving to sit next to her on the couch, “we’re not even engaged.”

Chloe frowns. “You proposed to me after you got your wisdom teeth out.”

“I was on prescription medication!” Beca says. “And that was three years ago.”

“We should do it now,” Chloe insists. “In case it gets overturned or something.”

“That’s not—it doesn't—” Beca stammers, trying to find the right words. “Do you know how the government works?”

Chloe stares at her. “Do you not want to get married?” she asks, her voice small.

Beca’s face softens. “Of course I want to marry you,” she says, taking one of Chloe’s hands in her own. “This is just a little… sudden.”

“So if I were to get down on one knee—” Chloe slides off of the couch, resting one knee on the floor. Beca’s eyes widen, and Chloe bites her lip to keep from giggling. “And pull out a ring—” She digs a small box out of the pocket of her jeans, opening it to reveal a simple band with a small diamond. “Would you say yes?”

“Um.” Beca’s eyes flick from the ring to Chloe’s face and back again. “I guess.”

“You guess?” Chloe raises one eyebrow.

Beca winces. “Sorry. Yes, I would say yes.”

Chloe gasps, and slides the ring onto Beca’s finger with shaking hands. They both stare at it for a moment; then Chloe squeals and pounces onto Beca, tackling her into the couch. “Fiancée,” she says simply, pressing her lips to Beca’s.

When they part, Beca asks, “Why did you just happen to have a ring in your pocket?” She pauses. “Or just in general?”

“I bought it a couple of months ago because I knew the Supreme Court was going to be making a ruling this month,” Chloe explains. “And I’ve been carrying it around in my pocket all week, since they were going to announce the ruling any day.”

Beca laughs and kisses Chloe again. “But what if they hadn’t legalized it?”

“I don’t think that matters now,” Chloe says dismissively.

“I suppose you’re right,” Beca concedes. Then she adds, “Fiancée.”


	86. Chapter 86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Chloe and Beca are living together and trying to clean their apartment and get “distracted” and it has to wait?

Chloe hates cleaning.

She’ll go to pretty elaborate lengths to distract Beca from the task at hand. (Quite often it involves a reduction or total elimination of clothing.) Usually it works.

Chloe’s really outdone herself this time.

“Oh, no,” Beca says, eyes widening. “Chloe,  _no_.”

“What?” Chloe asks innocently, pirouetting to give Beca a full view of the very skimpy, very tight,  _very_  distracting maid costume she’s donned.

“We’re cleaning the apartment,” Beca says, although it’s with far less conviction than she’d hoped.  
“I know.” Chloe blinks innocently. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Can you do it in normal clothes?” Chloe steps closer, and Beca inhales sharply.

“Why?” Chloe’s breath is hot against Beca’s ear. “Are you… distracted?”

“No.” Beca brushes past Chloe and grabs the vacuum. “You can vacuum the living room. I’ll clean the bathroom. Okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe says, winking at Beca and sashaying past.

Beca’s digging around the cupboard for the disinfectant when she hears Chloe call her name from the other room. “What?” she asks, swinging around the threshold.

What she finds is Chloe bent at the waist over the vacuum, giving Beca a very privileged view of her backside.  _Jesus fucking Christ_ , Beca thinks.

“How do you turn me on?” Chloe asks.

Beca rolls her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to will the blush in her cheeks to go down. “Do you mean, how do you turn the  _vacuum_  on?”

“Isn’t that what I said?” Chloe stands back up and gently ghosts her fingers over Beca’s cheek.

Beca bats her hand away. “Chloe, stop it. We’re cleaning,” she says, although she’s not sure whether she’s saying it more to Chloe or herself.

“That’s what I’m doing,” Chloe purrs. “Now"—she leans down, pushing her breasts deliberately together as she does so, and grabs one of the detachable parts—"where do I stick this hose?” She bats her eyelashes.

Beca looks from Chloe to the vacuum and back again. “Why are you like this?” she asks, although it comes out whiny and desperate-sounding.

“Like what?”

“Like—” Beca gestures to Chloe’s body. “You’re trying to distract me from cleaning!”

“I would never do anything like that!” Chloe says, mock-indignantly. “Unless"—she trails a finger down Beca’s arm—"it’s working.”

Beca shifts restlessly on her feet, dying to give in but trying not to. “If—” Her voice comes out strangled, and she clears her throat. “Okay,” she concedes, “but we are going to clean this apartment after, so help me God.”

Chloe’s already whipping off the costume. “Deal.”


	87. Chapter 87

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe gets desperate after Beca breaks up with her and becomes an exotic dancer, till Beca finds out and gets jealous at least.

“I’ll teach underprivileged children how to sing, or I’ll dance exotically—whatever offers the most money.”

It was a joke.

Or, at least, it started as one.

Chloe never actually intended to end up in Los Angeles—but then again, she never thought Beca would ask her to come.

She also never thought Beca would dump her.

Her salary from working part-time for an after-school program for underprivileged kids was livable when combined with Beca’s rather hefty check from the recording studio and the money her father sends Beca periodically.

But on its own, it isn’t.

Los Angeles is expensive, and a rather large city to be all alone in.

 _This is just temporary_ , Chloe tells herself as she applies for a job at Jumbo’s Clown Room. It looks clean enough, but it kind of smells like sweat.

She starts working the next week.

It’s not… terrible. The guys are sleazy, yeah, but there’s something rather liberating about strutting around in her underwear and stilettos, the audience practically drooling as Chloe sways her hips and drops it low.

There are bad days, of course—like the time a portly guy with greasy hair and a tattoo on his neck practically shoves his hand down her underwear. She calls Aubrey after, sobbing into the phone (although she’s not sure if it’s the guy or the pain of Beca’s absence that has her so upset).

Predictably, Aubrey tells her to quit.

Chloe tries to find something else, but there are just too many kids with music theory degrees and no experience and not enough jobs to go around.

She considers packing herself up and moving back home, but that almost seems worse.

And then one day Beca walks in.

Chloe nearly falls over, stumbling a little in her heels at the sight of Beca standing amongst the men, looking thoroughly freaked out.

Her heart rate picks up a little, but she’s determined to show Beca that she doesn’t need her.

“C'mon, baby,” one of the guys yells, shaking a dollar bill, and Chloe rolls her eyes and slithers over to him seductively, allowing him to tuck it into her bra.

As soon as his hand brushes against Chloe skin, Beca grabs his arm, yelling, “Hey!”

And then she proceeds to punch him in the face.

“What the fuck?” the man roars, clutching his cheek and lunging at Beca. Chloe’s heart leaps into her throat, but luckily one of the security guys throws himself between them, shoving the man back.

Chloe watches as another security guy escorts Beca out by the arm; Beca throws a furtive glance at Chloe as she’s dragged out the door.

Chloe hurries off the stage, telling her boss she’ll be right back. (He’s actually a pretty decent guy—or as decent as a strip club owner can be). She throws on a hoodie and a pair of shorts, then hurries out the side door in her heels, looking around the street for Beca.

“Chloe!” someone calls, and she whirls around to see Beca, clutching her left hand in her right and looking sheepish.

“Beca,” Chloe breathes, and she can’t help but grab Beca’s hand to examine the split knuckles. “What are you doing here?”

Beca shrugs one shoulder. “Aubrey called me.”

“Of course she did,” Chloe mutters, rolling her eyes.

“Chlo, you  _can’t_  work here,” Beca says, her eyes pleading.

Chloe drops Beca’s hand. “You don’t have a say in my life anymore, Beca.” She tries to make her eyes cold. “You broke up with  _me_ , remember?”

Beca winces. “Yeah, I’m realizing now that that was a stupid thing to do.”

“What does that mean?” Chloe looks at Beca suspiciously.

“It means I’m still in love with you,” Beca says quietly, and Chloe inhales sharply. “And that I’m a terrible person who needed to see you get groped by a middle-aged man to realize it.”

Chloe just stares, not quite believing what she’s hearing.

Beca reaches for Chloe’s hand, cradling it gently in her own. “Come home, Chloe.”

And, against her better judgment, Chloe says—

“Okay.”


	88. Chapter 88

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe is looking through an old box Beca has and she sees Beca went through a Kriss Kross phase like how Justin Timberlake’s character did in Friends with Benefits.

Beca should have known not to invite Chloe to her dad’s house.

Or, rather, she shouldn’t have left Chloe alone in her dad’s house.

Chloe has a habit of rummaging around in Beca’s things in her dorm room—flipping through the records on the shelves, exploring her desk drawer, digging in her closet to steal a sweatshirt.

So Beca really shouldn’t be surprised when she comes back from the bathroom to find Chloe cross-legged on her bed, old photos spread out in front of her.

“Chloe,” Beca says exasperatedly, “where did you get those?”

“They were in this box"—she taps an old shoebox next to her—"in your closet,” she says nonchalantly, like it’s entirely appropriate to go through other people’s things without their permission. “You were such a cute kid.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Give me the box.”

Suddenly, Chloe gasps, and a wicked smirk crosses her face.  _Oh, God_ , Beca thinks. _What the hell did she find?_

“You didn’t tell me you were a Kriss Kross fan,” Chloe says, flipping the photo around. It’s Beca, aged eight or nine, in baggy jeans, and backwards Knicks jersey and a baseball cap.

Beca lunges forward and yanks it out of Chloe’s hand. “It was a Halloween costume, okay?” she says, cheeks flaming.

Chloe just nods, scrolling through her phone. She seems to find what she’s looking for, and music starts to play.

Beca’s eyes widen when she hears the song. “Chloe, no—”

“ _Don’t try to compare us to another bad little fad. I’m the Mac and I’m bad givin’ ya something that you never had_ ,” Chloe raps, bouncing on the bed and pointing at Beca.

“Chloe, stop it!”

 _“I’ll make ya rump rump wiggle and shake your rump, ‘cause I’ll be kicking the flavor that makes you wanna jump. How high? Real high,'cause I’m just so fly._ ” Chloe is full-on dancing now, and Beca buries her face in her hands, wondering why she’s friends with this absolute  _idiot_.

 _“A young loveable, huggable type of guy. And everything is to the back with a little slack, 'cause inside-out its wiggida wiggida wiggida wack_.” Chloe moves closer, practically grinding against Beca as she makes wild hand gestures. Beca squeaks, hands moving instinctively to Chloe’s hips.

“Come on, Bec,” Chloe says breathlessly, grabbing Beca’s arms and trying to get her to join in. Beca shakes her head resolutely, fighting the smile that’s tugging at her lips as Chloe pokes her in the side.

“ _Jump, jump_!” Chloe grins at Beca, and she can feel her resolve crumbling. “ _The Mac Dad will make ya jump, jump_!”

 _Fuck it._  “ _A Daddy Mac will make ya jump, jump! Kris Kross will make ya jump, jump!_ ” she shouts, and Chloe twirls her around as she laughs.

“ _The Mac Dad will make ya jump, jump! A Daddy Mac will make ya_ —”

A knock sounds at the door. “Beca?”

Quickly, Beca grabs Chloe’s phone off of her bed and cuts the music, smoothing down her hair. “What?”

The door opens a little to reveal Dr. Mitchell. “Dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

“Okay, dad,” Beca says, finding it hard to keep a straight face when Chloe is giggling behind her.

The door closes again, and Beca takes one look at Chloe before they both dissolve into laughter.


	89. Chapter 89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you think you could write something with Bechloe with a little son? It's totally fine if not, I've just noticed that all the fics of them as moms always include daughters and I think it'd be interesting to see them with a little boy :)

Chloe always thought she’d have a daughter. 

She’s always wanted a little girl—someone for whom she can buy cute dresses, and take to ballet class, and go for mani-pedis on the weekends. 

Honestly, Chloe never really even considered what would have a son; she’d never really wanted one.

And then they had Justin.

Beca had always said that she didn’t care about the baby’s gender, so long as it didn’t touch her mixing equipment. In fact, when the doctor had said, “Congratulations, it’s a boy!” Beca had just shrugged and said, “Cool.”

Sure, Chloe had had to reset her expectations, but holding him in her arms for the first time had been the most magical moment of her life.

Their house is filled with toy trucks (which Beca likes to crash into things almost as much as Justin does) and Duplos instead of dolls and dress-up clothes, but Chloe never feels sad when she bypasses the little pink dresses in the store for the t-shirts and cargo pants.

Chloe signs Justin up for Little League instead of dance, and spends at least five hours a week trying to get the mud and grass stains out of his clothes.

Plus, watching Beca try and teach him how to throw a football is priceless (especially since neither of them can actually do it).

When Justin is thirteen, Beca ropes Jesse into giving him “the talk,” since—and Chloe quotes—neither of them have “done it with a guy in years.” Justin only looks mildly traumatized after, and they all go out for ice cream. 

Chloe actually has a really nice photo from that day on her desk at work.

When Justin is in high school, he gets a girlfriend. Her name is Emily. Emily is bubbly and kind of kooky, and she sings  _and_ writes music.

Beca has to stop Chloe from insisting that Justin marry Emily right  _now_.

Rather appropriately, Emily has two dads. Chloe teaches her how to French braid and takes her on “girls’ days” to the spa and the mall (the kind that Beca refuses to go along with). She even takes Emily to buy her prom dress.

It’s strange knowing that her son will never be a Bella, or (willingly) going for massages to cheesy rom-coms with her, but Chloe finds that she isn’t mourning these things.

Plus, Chloe thinks as she wipes away a tear watching Justin press his lips to Emily’s after exchanging vows, now she has a daughter-in-law.


	90. Chapter 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca is being her usual “I don’t give a fuck” self, not going to her classes, not doing homework, and not cleaning her room, but Chloe just had to ask once?

College is stupid.

How, exactly, is being able to calculate molar mass or analyzing a Dickens novel going to help her become a music producer?

Thank God she gets to go to Barden for free, otherwise this would be a $100,000 waste of time.

Maybe if she flunks on purpose and somehow manages to convince her dad that she tried her best and just couldn’t hack it he’ll take pity on her and let her move to LA early. It’s worth a shot, she figures.

(Plus, she’d much rather sleep in her own bed than on her desk in her philosophy class.)

It’s a Tuesday afternoon, and Beca’s supposed to be in her chemistry class, but she’s got a  _really_  great idea for a mix—one hopefully Aubrey can’t turn down. It’s just coming together when her door bangs open.

She jumps, whirling around in her chair to see a very annoyed-looking Chloe, her arms crossed over her chest. “Chloe, how did you get in here?”

“Your door was open,” Chloe says, as if that’s a reasonable excuse to barge in. “Why aren’t you in class?”

Beca furrows her brows. “How do you know I’m supposed to be in class?”

Chloe steps closer, and Beca can’t help but shrink back a little in her seat. She’s never seen Chloe even close to angry, and it’s kind of intimidating. (And just the _tiniest_  bit hot.) “I have a friend in administration. He showed me your grades, too,” Chloe tells her.

“Chloe,” Beca says exasperatedly, “you can’t  _do_  that.” She rolls her eyes. “You sound like my dad.”

“Beca,” Chloe says, her tone softer, “you  _have_  to start going to class and doing your work.” She looks around the room and scrunches up her nose. “And clean your room. It smells like a landfill in here.”

“You’re not my mom,” Beca grumbles, although she really probably should get rid of that half-eaten pizza under her bed.

“No,” Chloe agrees, “but I’m your captain, and you can’t be in the Bellas unless you have at least a 2.3 GPA.” She reaches for Beca’s hand, her eyes pleading. “Please? For me?”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Beca groans, hating herself for giving in but also desperately wanting to make Chloe happy. “Okay.”

Chloe squeals and pulls Beca in for a quick hug, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Aca-awesome,” she says, grinning. Then she looks at Beca for a long moment.

“What?” Beca asks nervously.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Chloe says, “but you  _really_  should take a shower.”

 _Oh, yeah_. “Okay, but only if you promise not to walk in on me,” Beca jokes, standing up from the chair to grab her things.

Chloe winks. “No promises.”


	91. Chapter 91

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about a young Beca and Chloe where Chloe witnesses Beca falling off her bike or skateboard and gets hurt, and Chloe comes to help her and they become really good friends after that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a few (brief) mentions of blood.

No rebel-without-a-cause persona is complete without a skateboard.

Of course, one should actually  _know_  how to ride a skateboard first.

(Beca realizes this as she careens directly into a tree.)

Blinking up at the sky, she carefully moves each of her limbs to make sure they’re still functioning—they are, and Beca breathes a sigh of relief and gingerly sits up.

There’s a pounding in her head, and when she brushes her fingertips over her forehead they come away wet with blood.  _Wonderful._

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” a voice says behind her, and Beca quickly turns around, instantly regretting it and hissing in pain.

“I’m fine,” Beca says through gritted teeth as a girl with red hair and very blue eyes kneels next to her. She looks vaguely familiar, and Beca’s pretty sure she’s seen her in the hallway at school.

“You’re bleeding,” she says, examining Beca’s head.

“It’s just a scratch,” Beca insists, although her head hurts like a bitch.

“Do you live around here?” the girl asks, and Beca points up the street. “Here, let me help you up.” She holds out her hands, and Beca reluctantly allows the girl to pull her to her feet. “You’re Beca, right?” she asks.

Beca nods. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” she says, bending down to grab her skateboard and nearly falling over.

“Whoa!” The girl grabs Beca around her midsection, taking the skateboard and wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist. “I’m Chloe,” she says with a smile.

They walk up the sidewalk, Beca leaning into Chloe’s side whenever she starts to feel dizzy. She smiles to herself, because they must be quite a sight—Beca with blood running down her face with Chloe supporting most of her weight.

Finally, they reach Beca’s house. “Is anyone home?” Chloe asks as Beca unlocks the door with a key she pulls out of her pocket.

“No, my mom’s at work,” Beca says, pushing the door open.

“I’ll stay with you until she gets home,” Chloe says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Okay,” Beca agrees, and Chloe makes a beeline for the kitchen, wetting a paper towel and telling Beca to sit down. She carefully wipes Beca’s face, being careful not to press too hard on the cut.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Chloe tells her once she can actually see the cut. “Do you still feel dizzy?”

Beca starts to shake her head, but that makes the room spin. “Yes,” she admits.

“You should probably lie down,” Chloe says. “Where’s your room?”

 _This girl’s a little forward_ , Beca thinks, but she points up the stairs anyway. “I’m fine, though,” she says.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees, although Beca can tell she doesn’t really believe her. “I’ll help you up just in case.”

“Are you a doctor or something?” Beca jokes as she climbs the stairs, Chloe following close behind.

Chloe laughs. “My mom is.”

When the enter Beca’s room, Chloe’s eyes zero in on Beca’s mixing equipment. She helps Beca to her bed, but then makes a beeline to her desk.

“Don’t touch anything!” Beca says, holding up a hand. Chloe looks at her with raised eyebrows, and Beca says sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“What do you do with this stuff?” Chloe asks.

“I mix music,” Beca says with a shrug as she settles back against her pillows.

“That’s so cool!” Chloe gushes, moving to sit next to Beca on the bed. “Can you show me? I mean, when you’re feeling better.”

“Um,” Beca says, because, really, she’s _just_  met this girl. “Sure,” she concedes.

“Yay!” Chloe claps her hands. “I sing, you know.”

“Cool.” Beca smiles, and is about to reply when she hears the front door open. “That’s my mom,” Beca explains. “She’ll probably want to take me to the doctor.”

“You should go,” Chloe says, nodding. “I'll… talk to you at school?” she asks, looking hesitant for the first time.

“Yes,” Beca agrees. “I’ll talk to you at school.”


	92. Chapter 92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking maybe one inspired by Mary Lambert's song when you sleep and maybe Chloe is reflecting on her feelings for Beca and wishing she felt the same but she's with Jesse

_One foot in front of the other_  
Keep breathing just like they taught you  
You politely asked to take a walk with me  
I would’ve married you there underneath the trees

Falling for your best friend is hard.

Especially when your best friend is Beca, who lets you link arms with her when you walk across campus, and nuzzle into her neck when you fall asleep on her shoulder during long bus rides, and who lets you practically spoon her when she sleeps in your bed (for no reason at all).

You don’t see Beca doing these things with Jesse.

(Frankly, you don’t understand why they’re together in the first place.)

You love her more than Jesse ever could—you  _know_ you do. You love all the little things about her—the way she absently taps out random rhythms with her pen against her textbook when she studies, or she always leaves her socks in the living room.

You tell yourself to get over her, but then she’ll give you this  _look_ from across the rehearsal space that you can’t really read but it sets you on fire anyway.

 _I could make you happy_  
I could make you love me  
I could disappear completely  
I could be your love song  
I could be long gone

Every single one of the Bellas has approached you at least once about your “obvious toner” (thank you, Aubrey) for Beca. (Stacie inexplicably always bugs you about it on Thursday evenings.) 

You refuse, because Beca’s with Jesse, and you’re not a dude but you know that that’s totally against bro code.

So you wait, and you watch, and you cry behind the closed bathroom door when you’ve had too much to drink, and you pray that Beca will come to her senses soon.

 _I swore I saw you in a dream_  
All dressed in white and wide smile  
You politely asked to take a walk with me  
And I married you there underneath the trees  
Can you feel the beat of my heartbeat beat through me?

One night, Beca tugs you aside during one of the Trebles’ parties. She smells like liquor, and the lopsided smile on her face as she presses you against the side of the house makes your chest tighten.

She kisses you, hard and sloppy and messy. Her fingers tug painfully at your hair and it hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the pain of watching her hang on Jesse all night, so you let her do it.

You wait anxiously for her to wake up the next morning, but she just grunts at you and buries her head under her pillow.

She never mentions it, and you figure she doesn’t remember.

_I could be a ghost in your eardrum  
When you sleep, will it be with me?_

You’d rather have her as your best friend than not at all, and you can’t stop yourself from curling into her when you share a bed, listening to her even breathing.

When she’s asleep is the only time you have the courage to whisper, “I love you.”

 _I could make you love me_  
I could disappear completely  
Be with me when you sleep  
Be with me


	93. Chapter 93

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please write a established Bechloe with Beca suffers from really severe OCD and she has a breakdown during Bellas and everyone doesn't know what's happening except for Chloe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mentions of mental illness and injury/death.

One: The number of times Beca presses the snooze button on her alarm in the morning.

Two: The exact number of minutes she brushes her teeth.

Three: The number of times she ties and re-ties her sneakers.

Four: The number of times Beca makes sure she has her phone safely in her pocket.

Five: The number of times she asks Chloe for reassurance that no one she loves will die today.

It started when she was ten. 

It was an evening like any other—dinner on the table, the television on in the background. All that was missing was Beca’s mom, who was due home from work at any moment.

And then they got a call.

Beca doesn’t really understand anything that’s said that night—T-boned, driving under the influence, critical condition—but she knows that this is bad.

 _If I see three people with red shirts walk by, my mom will be fine_ , she says to herself as she huddles in a corner of the waiting room with her dad.  _If a doctor walks by in the next five seconds, my mom will be fine._

_If my mom is okay, I’ll floss every day._

_If my mom is okay, I’ll eat every vegetable with no complain._

_If my mom is okay, I’ll do my homework as soon as I get home from school_.

Her mom comes home from the hospital two weeks later.

Beca doesn’t forget her promises.

* * *

Chloe happens to walk into her room one time when Beca’s mid-meltdown because she can’t find her phone. Beca  _needs_ her phone on her at all times, just in case something happens.

She cries in Chloe’s arms as Chloe whispers soothing words in her ear.

Chloe lost her dad when she was little. She understands, and Beca trusts her.

* * *

One day, Beca forgets to set her alarm.

She awakens approximately ten minutes before she’s supposed to be at practice. She rushes around, trying to squeeze in all of her rituals, but Aubrey will  _kill_ her if she’s late.

It isn’t until she walks through the door that Beca realizes she forgot to brush her teeth.

Panic floods her, clouding her vision and making her heart race. Her hands shake, and she sinks down onto the first chair she can find. She can’t  _breathe_ , feeling like the walls are closing in around her.

“Beca, you okay?” someone calls. It’s Cynthia Rose, but her voice sounds far away.

“Guys, I got this,” someone else—Chloe—says.

Beca can hear the whispers (”What’s wrong with her?” and “Is she gonna puke?”), but she’s too busy trying not to rip out her hair or start screaming.

A pair of arms wrap around Beca’s waist, hoisting her up. “Let’s go outside,” Chloe suggests, leading Beca out the door and to a bench around the side of the building.

Beca presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, practically hyperventilating, her brain bombarded with images of her mother lying in that hospital bed, connected to more tubes than Beca could count.

“Beca, look at me,” Chloe says, gently pulling Beca’s hands down. Beca loos at her reluctantly, trying to focus on the cerulean of Chloe’s eyes. “Breathe. In… out… Good.”

Beca tries to take deep, steady breaths, and eventually she calms down a little.

“What happened?” Chloe asks gently, rubbing soothing circles on Beca’s back.

Beca closes her eyes and leans into the touch. “I forgot to brush my teeth,” she admits, feeling spectacularly stupid now that she realizes she’d been freaking out over something so small. “I’m sorry, I must sound like an idiot.”

“Beca,” Chloe says, very seriously, “you do  _not_ sound like an idiot.” Beca scoffs, and Chloe continues, “Really. You came out of that panic attack faster than I’ve ever seen you do in the past.” She smiles gently. 

“Well, I…” Beca trails off, blushing a little. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she mumbles.

Chloe grins and plants a kiss on Beca’s cheek. “Ready to go back in?”

Beca allows Chloe to pull her up from the bench.

“Yeah.”


	94. Chapter 94

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should do a follow-up to prompt 80

Beca hates bowling.

Honestly, she doesn’t understand the appeal of paying money to wear someone else’s shoes and heave a heavy ball at some pins. (She can do the exact same thing in her backyard with a baseball and some soda cans.)

But Chloe likes bowling, so Beca does her best to keep her mouth shut.

Chloe is, like, some sort of bowling whiz. It’s almost annoying— _almost_ , because every time Chloe rolls another strike she does this adorable happy dance.

Plus, the way Chloe wraps herself around Beca’s back to instruct her on “proper technique” is a nice incentive to stick around.

It’s quite like every other time they hang out—they eat pizza once their finished and laugh about something stupid the girl in Beca’s biology class said today—but now Beca can hold Chloe’s hand or cuddle into her side on the bench.

She also gets to make out with Chloe in the backseat of her car in the parking lot. 

Chloe suggests they go mini golfing the next weekend; Beca hates mini golfing almost as much as she hates bowling, but she just smiles and kisses Chloe gently on the front stoop of her house.

Chloe could probably say that they should see what happens if they drive Beca’s car off a cliff and Beca will agree.

Honestly? She’ll do anything as long as Chloe is there, too.


	95. Chapter 95

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In honor of MJ you should do a song fic of “Remember the Time” + Beca cheats on Chloe.

_Do you remember  
_ _when we fell in love?  
_ _We were young and innocent then.  
_ _Do you remember  
_ _how it all began?  
_ _It just seemed like heaven  
_ _so why did it end?_

* * *

Beca was drunk.

That’s not the only reason, but it’s easier to say than to admit that she was lonely and insecure and stupid.

It’s probably easier for Chloe to accept, too.

In truth—which Beca can only really think about late at night, staring up at the ceiling and wondering why she’s awake—there wasn’t any real reason why she slept with that guy. Beca was drunk, and Chloe was visiting her grandmother for her birthday, and the guy in the Sigma Beta Theta t-shirt told Beca that she was the most beautiful girl in the room.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes.

* * *

_Do you remember  
_ _back in the fall?  
_ _We’d be together all day long.  
_ _Do you remember  
_ _us holding hands?  
_ _In each other’s eyes we’d stare._

* * *

She feels terrible; Beca’s also always been a horrible liar. She barely makes it past  _Hey, babe, how was your trip?_  before she blurts out, “I cheated on you.”

Chloe had been devastated, of course. When she asks why, Beca just passes it off as being drunk and missing Chloe.

She can’t tell Chloe that her  _good morning gorgeous_  text messages just weren’t enough, that Beca had to go seeking reassurance and validation elsewhere. Not if she wants Chloe to ever trust her again.

Much to Beca’s surprise, though, Chloe doesn’t break up with her on the spot. But something changes after that. Beca can’t quite put her finger on it, but everything just feels different.

* * *

_Do you remember the time  
_ _when we fell in love?  
_ _Do you remember the time  
_ _when we first met?  
_ _Do you remember the time  
_ _when we fell in love?  
_ _Do you remember the time?_

* * *

Chloe still kisses her, and cuddles into her on the couch, and holds her hand when they walk, but it feels almost mechanical. She’s constantly watching Beca’s eyes—probably to see if they’re straying to body parts of passersby.

Beca tries to ignore it, tries to make sure that she’s extra thoughtful and extra helpful and extra loving.

Still, when Chloe smiles at her, it just doesn’t feel right.

* * *

_Do you remember  
_ _back in the spring?  
_ _Every morning birds would sing.  
_ _Do you remember  
_ _those special times?  
_ _They’ll just go on and on  
_ _in the back of my mind._

* * *

Beca doesn’t want to break up with Chloe. She loves Chloe more than everyone she’s ever met—probably more than anyone she ever will meet.

But she does it because she knows that Chloe isn’t happy, and call her selfish but Beca can’t have that on her.

Chloe cries and halfheartedly pleads with Beca not to do it, but she doesn’t seem surprised.

That hurts most of all.

* * *

_Those sweet memories  
_ _will always be dear to me.  
_ _And girl no matter what was said  
_ _I will never forget what we had._


	96. Chapter 96

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you maybe follow up the Beca singing showtunes in the shower prompt? Like maybe Chloe keeps asking her about it, and Beca finally relents and explains that she had a role in the last five years in high school, and Chloe thinks its kind of cute?

Chloe won’t drop it.

She’s blackmailed Beca into watching four musicals within the last week and a half. (Secretly, Beca doesn’t really mind all that much.) But apparently that isn’t satisfactory enough for Chloe.

She’s stolen Beca’s phone a couple of times to load it with showtunes, even going so far as to delete part of Beca’s 90s pop playlist. (She wasn’t too happy about that.)

Chloe keeps asking all of these  _questions_ : What’s your favorite musical? Favorite songs? Favorite movie adaptations?

Beca refuses to answer any of them, still insisting that she isn’t a a musical fan. 

And then Chloe finds the photo.

How she managed to find a photo posted on Facebook in 2010 by someone Beca only vaguely knew in high school, Beca will never know.

“You’re a liar, Mitchell!” Chloe says, barging into Beca’s room one night. She shoves her phone under Beca’s nose. “You  _are_ a closeted theater nerd.”

“How the fuck did you find that?” Beca asks, staring in horror at the picture of her sixteen-year-old self in a glittery pink top and daisy dukes, a rubber snake draped around her shoulders.

“I’m very resourceful,” Chloe says, and she has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face—the one that always makes Beca nervous. “You were the stripper in The Last Five Years!” she half-shouts, pointing a finger at Beca. 

“Dude,” Beca hisses, batting Chloe’s finger away. “Can you keep it down, maybe?”

“Oh, come on, Bec,” Chloe says, dropping onto Beca’s bed. “It’s super cute.” Beca grimaces. “How did you end up in a musical, anyway?”

Beca glances toward the door. “This just stays between us, right?”

Chloe leans forward, lowering her voice. “Sure.”

Beca sighs, twisting her fingers together, feeling her cheeks heat a bit. “I  _may_ or may not have been into the guy who played Jamie.”

“Oh, my  _God_ ,” Chloe squeals, clapping her hands together. “That is  _adorable_.” 

Beca groans. “You’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?”

“No, I won’t,” Chloe says, but she still has that infuriating smirk on her face. “If you watch Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat with me tonight.”

“ _Ugh,_ ” Beca groans again, but she can’t seem to ever say no to Chloe. “Fine.”

“Yay!” Chloe jumps up. “I’ll make popcorn.”

Beca just shakes her head.


	97. Chapter 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For someone on ff.net, who wanted established Bechloe bodyswap.

Beca doesn’t even realize it’s happened until she’s about to get in the shower.

 _Wait a second_ , she thinks.  _These are definitely not my boobs._

She whirls around and quickly wipes the fog off of the mirror.

And screams.

Because that’s definitely  _Chloe_  staring back at her.

“What the  _fuck_?!”

“Beca?” a voice that sounds a lot like hers calls. There’s a pounding on the door.

Quickly, Beca wraps a towel around herself and pulls the door open. She comes face-to-face with herself.

“What the fuck?” the other Beca says, albeit slightly less alarmed.

“Right?” Beca presses her hands to her forehead. “Wait, who are you?”

“It’s Chloe, silly,” Chloe tells her, turning around to admire her—Beca’s?—backside in the mirror.

Beca smacks her on the arm. “Stop that.”

“What?” Chloe asks, gesturing to Beca’s towel-clad body. “ _You_  got to look at  _me_.”

“That is not our biggest concern right now!” Beca nearly shouts. “Plus, I’ve already seen you naked, like, a million times.”

“Exactly,” Chloe says, running her hands over the multitude of earrings in her ears. “So what’s the problem?”

“What’s the problem?” Beca repeats slowly. “The _problem_  is that I’m in the  _wrong body_.”

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be this small,” Chloe says, seemingly ignoring Beca’s freak-out. “Do you think I could, like, fit in a suitcase or something? Or— _ooh_!” Her eyes light up. “I can probably hit some really nice high notes.”

“Chloe,” Beca growls, “focus. As much as I love your body, I’d _really_  like mine back.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees reluctantly, but she gets distracted by her fingernails. “You really need to get these done, Bec,” she says, poking at a cuticle.

Beca rolls her eyes and huffs exasperatedly. “Chloe, focus.”

“Sorry,” Chloe says as she examines her eyebrows in the mirror.

“ _I_  am going to put some clothes on,” Beca says, poking Chloe’s shoulder, “and then we are going to figure out how to fix this.” She bends down to pick Chloe’s sleep shorts up off of the floor.

“Wait!” Chloe calls, holding up her hands.

“What?” Beca asks, annoyed.

“Don’t get dressed yet.”

“Why not?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like to have sex with yourself?” Chloe asks, her voice low. It sends a rush of heat through Beca—and then a wave of confusion, because it doesn’t feel quite right to be turned on by the sound of your own voice.

Beca thinks about it for a moment. “Okay,” she concedes, because, really, Chloe has a point. “Once. And then we’re fixing this.”

* * *

 _Wow_ , Beca thinks fifteen minutes later, half-lying on top of Chloe on the bathroom floor.  _I’m damn good._


	98. Chapter 98

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow-up to pregnant!Beca

Beca isn’t the kind of person Chloe would ever expect to want kids.

Case in point: When the doctor offered the freshly born Emily for Beca to hold, she scrunched her nose and shook her head, saying, “I’m not touching that shit.” (Chloe gave him an apologetic smile, blaming the epidural Beca had screamed for after about thirty minutes of labor.)

But seeing Beca at home with Emily is like having an entirely new person.

Sure, Chloe sometimes questions whether Beca’s ever interacted with a baby before when her wife asks Emily conversationally about the economy as she changes her diaper, but Beca also sings Emily softly back to sleep when she awakens at 3 am, and gently burps her after feeding, and cradles her against her chest while Beca watches TV.

Aside from that fact that she screamed—literally  _screamed_ —the first time Emily puked on her, Beca is an amazing mom.

It’s the whole interacting with  _other_  moms that needs work. Like whenever someone comments how beautiful Emily is and Beca gives them a hard look and says, “She looks like literally ever other white baby ever born.” Or how she refers to all pregnant women as “incubators.” Or the time Beca told a woman with a son dressed in a “hello ladies” onesie that her clothing choices were heteronormative.

Although that can really all be filed under Beca’s issues with interacting with people in general, which is not a new problem.

Chloe watches Beca one morning from the kitchen table, completely in awe of the way that her wife manages to balance Emily on her hip, flip pancakes, and cradle her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder. Beca catches Chloe staring at her with a dopey grin on her face and mouths,  _What?_

Chloe just smiles and shakes her head.

Beca is full of surprises.


	99. Chapter 99

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a Bechloe fic based on Good for You by Selena Gomez?

_Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight  
_ _Do my hair up real, real nice  
_ _And syncopate my skin to your heart beating_

* * *

Pushing Beca’s buttons is one of Chloe’s favorite pastimes.

It’s not like she’s  _trying_ to make Beca all flustered—it just happens. 

(That’s a lie.)

Practically every single person within a five-mile radius notices the painfully obvious way that Beca stares at Chloe.

But whenever one of the Bellas calls her on it, Beca just stutters and denies it. (Chloe particularly fondly remembers the way Amy kept a running chart of which body part Beca was staring at and how often.)

It’s frustrating.

It’s still fun to watch, though. 

Like the time Chloe purposely wore spandex workout pants that were a size too small and Beca tripped over a chair because she was looking at Chloe’s ass instead of where she was going.

Or the time when Chloe walked into Beca’s room in nothing but her bra and underwear, asking if Beca had seen her favorite blue top, and Beca stared at her with her mouth open for a full ten seconds before answering.

Or the time when they all piled in the minibus and went to the beach. Chloe was wearing this  _totally_ adorable bikini from Victoria’s Secret that made her boobs look fantastic (if she does say so herself), and Beca practically drooled.

It’s as annoying as it is entertaining, because Beca doesn’t look at Stacie that way, even though the girl is almost always in some state of undress.

Beca Mitchell is the most frustrating person Chloe’s ever met.

* * *

It starts out as a normal conversation about choreography—or, it would be a normal conversation if Beca would actually look at her face.

Okay, so  _maybe_ Chloe wore a low-cut shirt on purpose.

“Beca,” Chloe interrupts, smirking. “My eyes are up here.”

Beca’s eyes snap up to Chloe’s face, and she flushes brilliantly, looking rather guilty. “I know,” she says, sounding a bit defensive.

“I can see your toner through those jeans,” Chloe jokes, laughing when Beca shoves at her and flops backward on the bed. 

“Shut up,” Beca says, rolling her eyes.

“You know,” Chloe says conversationally, scooting over so she’s lying next to Beca, “you’re really not as sneaky as you think you are.”

Beca groans and covers her eyes with a hand. “It’s not my fault,” she mumbles.

Chloe furrows her brows. “What isn’t your fault?”

Beca peeks at her with one eye. “That you’re all… sexy and stuff.” She gestures to Chloe’s body with her other hand.

Chloe is momentarily speechless. “Beca Mitchell, did you just call me sexy?”

“What? No,” Beca denies, looking mildly horrified. “I meant you dress all sexy and stuff. On purpose.”

“I do no such thing,” Chloe says, but her smirk probably gives her away.

“You do!” Beca sits up, pointing an accusing finger at Chloe. “You do it on purpose. Like, how am I supposed to focus on anything when you’ve got your boobs in my face?”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

Beca rolls her eyes again. “Shut the fuck up.”

Chloe tugs Beca back down next to her, slinging an arm over her waist. “You love me.”

“I hate you,” Beca insists, even as she leans her head against Chloe’s.

“You love me,” Chloe repeats, nuzzling into Beca’s side. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

* * *

 _‘Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you_  
I just wanna look good for you, good for you  
Let me show you how proud I am to be yours  
Leave this dress a mess on the floor  
And still look good for you, good for you


	100. Chapter 100

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was super long and strangely specific and I'm too lazy to re-type it here but the gist is that Beca and Chloe are in the same philosophy class and Beca finds Chloe annoying

Chloe Beale is infuriating.

Beca only knows her first and last names so she can tell people  _exactly_  how irritating she is.

Her annoyance with Chloe probably exceeds what might be considered reasonable, but she doesn’t care.

For one thing, Chloe is  _always_ late to class. She strolls in ten minutes after the start time, latte in hand. Which is even  _more_ irritating, because if she had just skipped the coffee stop she would have been on time.

And then there’s the shit Chloe says in class. 

Chloe has a wholly unrealistic, romanticized view of the world. She’s the kind of person who looks for the good in everyone. (Beca believes that some people are just plain evil.) 

Beca thinks she’s kind of an idiot.

She groans internally when someone brings up the topic of soulmates—which Beca thinks is just a crock of bullshit used to sell cheesy romantic comedies that aren’t interesting enough to be successful on their own.

But of  _course_  Chloe believes in them. 

Beca usually tries to avoid speaking in class, but snap, “That’s ridiculous. Don’t tell me that there’s some person out wandering the world, and neither of us will be happy until we find each other.”

Chloe looks a little surprised at first, but then she smiles lightly—which both startles Beca and pisses her off. “I certainly don’t think that everyone will be miserable until they find their soulmate,” Chloe concedes. “But I do think that there is someone out there that is your other half.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Beca challenges. “What about the fifty percent of marriages that end in divorce?”

Chloe shrugs. “Maybe there’s more than one, and you have to go through a few to find your true match, but I do think that there’s someone out there for everyone.”

“That makes no sense,” Beca counters, crossing her arms. “What about all of the people who die alone? Your theory is ridiculous.”

“I know you think I’m stupid, Beca,” Chloe says, her voice even. “I see you roll your eyes every time I speak. But you need to accept the fact that there are people who have different opinions than you.”

Beca’s about to open her mouth to retort when her professor claps his hands together, announcing the end of class. Beca shoots another glance at Chloe, who has turned away to stuff her things into her backpack. She shuffles over to stand next to Chloe’s desk.

Chloe looks up. “What?” she asks, her face neutral.

“I, uh…” Beca looks at the floor, the desk, finally settling her gaze somewhere on Chloe’s forehead. “I’m sorry if I, like, offended you. I don’t think you’re stupid. (Okay, it’s a  _tiny_ bit of a lie, but Beca’s a nice person, so she says it anyway.)

“It’s okay,” Chloe says, slinging her bag over her shoulder and standing up. She stares at Beca for a moment. “Did you need anything else, or…?”

“Oh,” Beca says, a little too loudly. “Um. No.” She turns to walk away.

“Wait,” Chloe calls out. “Do you want to get coffee or something?”

Beca gestures to the empty cup in Chloe’s hand. “Didn’t you just have coffee?”

“What’s your point?” Chloe asks, but she’s smiling so Beca knows she’s joking.

“Um, yeah. Sure,” Beca agrees, noticing for the first time how blue Chloe’s eyes are.

Beca’s surprised to find that Chloe is not nearly as annoying in real life as she is in class. (Beca doesn’t say that either, of course.) They talk about philosophy, and Beca finds herself enjoying the conversation—which is weird, because she really doesn’t like the class.

Chloe keeps doing things that make Beca’s stomach flutter—like touching her arm every so often or scrunching her nose when she laughs. And when Chloe asks Beca to some frat party on Friday that Beca would normally stay at least 500 feet away from, she agrees quickly.

Beca doesn’t really believe in soulmates, but Chloe might be able to change that argument, if given enough time.

(A long-ass amount of time.)


	101. Chapter 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Beca kisses Chloe, whilst still on stage, instead of Jesse after the ICCAs and is then super adorably embarrassed afterwards?

It’s a spur-of-the-moment thing.

Beca doesn’t even realize she’s done it until after it’s over, and Chloe is blinking back at her, wide-eyed and lips slightly parted.

Beca covers her mouth, momentarily horrified because she kind of  _just kissed Chloe._

“Fuck,” she says, scrunching her other hand in her hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Chloe just continues to stare at her.

“Chlo?” Beca asks nervously, afraid she’s really fucked up. “Are you mad?”

Chloe seems to snap out of whatever trance she’s in. “No, no,” she says, reaching for Beca’s hand. (Beca heaves a sigh of relief.) “Of course I’m not mad.”

“Okay?” Beca says, although it comes out more like a question.

“You kissed me,” Chloe states.

“I, uh…” Beca rubs a hand on the back of her neck. “I did. But if you’re not, like, into that we can pretend it didn’t happen. Blame it on the heat of the moment.” She laughs nervously, because Chloe is  _still_  just looking at her with that frustratingly unreadable expression. “Or we—”

“Beca,” Chloe interrupts, and Beca immediately closes her mouth. “Do it again.”

“What?” Beca’s sure she must have heard incorrectly. Wait, is Chloe’s face getting closer?

“Kiss me again,” Chloe says, and yeah, she’s close enough for Beca to feel her breath on her lips.

“Oh,” Beca says, licking her lips. “Okay.”

If possible, it’s even better the second time.

Or, it would be, if her ridiculous teammates would stop wolf whistling and catcalling.

(Beca just tunes them out.)


	102. Chapter 102

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another long and specific prompt, the gist of which was Beca and Chloe meet at a concert/festival before Beca starts at Barden

There are some rather distinct disadvantages to being short.

Trying to reach stuff on high shelves, for one thing. Finding jeans that fit. And it’s also really easy to lose your friends in crowds, because you  _can’t see over all of these damn people_.

Beca hates crowds; she hates most people individually, so jamming a bunch of them together in one space is not exactly her idea of fun.

The things she’ll do for David Guetta.

She’s practically plastered to some girl with red hair who, Beca can’t help but notice, is  _really_ into the music—a different muscle moves every time the bass drops, her eyes lighting up with every chord progression. It’s mesmerizing.

The girl seems to sense Beca’s staring, and turns to grin at her. Beca can’t help but smile back.

They stand in silence, their hands periodically brushing. It’s ridiculous, because this girl is a total stranger, but the air between them feels almost electrified, and the way she every so often winks at Beca or  _accidentally_  brushes her boob against Beca’s arm makes her heart pound.

It’s weird; usually eye contact for more than five consecutive seconds makes Beca uncomfortable, but she holds the girl’s gaze as the final notes of the sing ring out. It’s a connection like nothing Beca has experienced before.

Suddenly, her phone buzzes in her pocket. Glancing at the screen, Beca sees it’s a text message from her friend:  _Where r u?_

“I have to go,” Beca says apologetically, wondering why she feels compelled to tell this to this stranger.

“Okay,” the girl responds with another smile.

Beca’s eyes trace the curve of her mouth, and really wants to know how it would feel against her own. 

_It’s not like I’m ever gonna see her again…_  Beca reasons with herself.

Beca’s not usually impulsive, but— _fuck it_ , she thinks—she rises up on her toes and places one hand on the back of the girl’s neck, tugging her closer before connecting their lips.

The girl seems almost to be expecting this, and she kisses back with fervor for the whole ten seconds before their break apart, breathing hard.

“Beca!” a voice calls from behind her. Beca turns to see her friends waving at her from several feet away.

“Um,” Beca says, reluctant to leave, “bye.”

The girl smiles again, briefly squeezing Beca’s hand. “Bye.”

* * *

Beca can’t stop thinking about the girl with the red hair and blue eyes for the next few weeks. She thinks she sees her in random aisles in the grocery store, or passing her on the sidewalk. She’s a frequent guest in Beca’s dreams.

She tries to push the thoughts out of her mind by telling herself she’s never going to see this girl again, but she can’t stop herself from weaving “Titanium” into all of her mixes

* * *

When she actually  _does_  see the girl again, Beca almost doesn’t believe it. She stands staring creepily from several yards away, trying to figure out if the girl shoving fliers in the faces of passersby is the same one who’s been haunting Beca for weeks.

As soon as she sees the girl smile, though, Beca knows it’s her.

Beca hesitates; the girl probably doesn’t even remember her. With a face like that, she probably has random strangers kissing her every other day. 

Beca tries to sneak past the table unnoticed—she’ll figure it out later—but suddenly a hand twisted in her shirt pulls her back.

“What the fu—”

Before she knows it, she’s being wrapped up in a hug, and all Beca can see is the red hair that tickles her face.

“Hi!” the girl says, squeezing Beca tighter before letting go. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Beca says, entirely unsure of how to behave in this situation, “I go here?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement.

“Oh, my God, really?” the girl squeals, looking so excited that Beca can’t help but mirror her grin. “We  _totally_ have to hang out, like, all the time.” She pats a hand against Beca’s backside; Beca jumps, looking around nervously, because they’re kind of in public.

But the girl just takes the phone out of Beca’s back pocket and taps her number into it before handing it back.  _Chloe Beale_  followed by ten digits glows on its screen.

It’s then that Beca fully realizes that they never actually exchanged names.

“I’m Beca,” she says, typing a quick message to Chloe so she’ll have her number, too. “Beca Mitchell.”

Chloe opens her mouth to reply, but a voice behind them cuts her off.

“Chloe!”

A tightly wound-looking blond is waving at her, looking annoyed.

“I have to get back to the table,” Chloe says, brushing her hand over Beca’s arm as she turns to go. “I’ll text you.”

“Okay,” Beca says, dumbly watching Chloe saunter away.

Maybe this whole college thing won’t be so bad, after all.


	103. Chapter 103

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe drags beca to pride. And Beca meets some drag queens or something, your choice obviously.

“It looks like God vomited rainbows and then sprinkled glitter on it,” Beca grumbles as Chloe drags her by the hand down the street.

It’s not that Beca has any issue with queer people—you can’t do the kind of things she does with Chloe and then claim to be straight.

It’s just a bit… much.

(Also, why is every other person in some state of undress?)

But Chloe is so excited; she whoops for every single person that passes them in the parade, clapping her hands and accepting the rainbow-covered swag that is thrown at them like a kid on Halloween.

She looks beautiful, Beca can’t help but notice, with her hair glowing red under the sun, her eyes squinted and nose wrinkled as she grins and laughs.

Beca has to admit, the atmosphere is kid of infectious. Everyone is having a great time, decked out head-to-toe in rainbow. (Heck, even the older guy standing in the street with a “police lives matter” sign is wearing a rainbow shirt.)

Chloe looks so happy—and happy Chloe usually also means handsy Chloe. She drapes an arm around Beca, cuddling into her side, or slides a hand into Beca’s back pocket, or pulls Beca in by the back of her neck for a kiss. 

Beca looks around nervously at first; she’s usually wary of PDA. But no one around them seems to bat an eye, so she just smiles and kisses Chloe back. (She draws the line when Chloe’s hands start wandering underneath her shirt, though.)

After the parade, they make their way over to the festival area, where different companies, groups, and organizations have set up tables underneath rows of tents.

“I want to get one of everything they’re giving away,” Chloe says seriously, accepting a handful of condoms that’s shoved at her by a smiling lady in a pink shirt.

“What are you going to do with those?” Beca asks as Chloe drops the condoms into her purse.

Chloe shrugs. “Maybe put them in a nice bowl on the coffee table in the living room.”

“You’re so weird,” Beca says, shaking her head. 

“Excuse me,” someone says behind them. Beca turns to see a very lithe drag queen with a beard and long brown hair teetering towards them in heels even taller than the ones Aubrey made them wear Beca’s freshman year.

“Is that your natural hair color?” the drag queen asks, reaching to run his fingers through a lock of Chloe’s hair.

Beca fights the urge to knock his hand away and tug Chloe into her side, but Chloe just smiles. 

“Yep,” she says, holding up her right hand. “I swear.”

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” the drag queen coos, and Beca steps protectively closer to Chloe.

It’s kind of ridiculous, because this person is only being friendly, but Beca is weirdly possessive over Chloe’s hair. (Maybe it’s because Beca can’t help but remember clenching her hands in it which Chloe does dirty things to her.)

The drag queen seems to notice Beca tense, and he just chuckles and winks, letting go of Chloe’s hair. “You girls have fun today,” he says, turning to walk away.

Chloe looks at Beca for a long moment, smirking.

“What?” Beca asks.

“Nothing,” Chloe says, pressing a kiss to Beca’s cheek. “I just love you.”

“I love you, too,” Beca says, brushing her hand over Chloe’s hair, settling it just so over her shoulders. 

Suddenly, Chloe pulls away. “Ooh!” she squeals, “free bumper stickers!” She takes off toward one of the tables.

Beca just rolls her eyes good-naturedly and trudges after her.


	104. Chapter 104

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe has a boyfriend and Beca decides to start dating someone to try to get over Chloe and then Chloe gets jealous and realizes she likes Beca?

Beca doesn’t understand what Chloe sees in Tom.

(Okay, well, she’s heard some, um…  _things_  about him that she supposes would be attractive to other girls, but they could also buy the exact same thing on the Internet for about twenty bucks, so Beca doesn’t really understand what the big deal is.)

Beca’s pretty sure Tom’s interests consist entirely of football and nachos.

He doesn’t demand a whole lot of Chloe’s time, though—they only spend time together once or twice a week—so Beca often forgets that Chloe has a boyfriend at all.

Except when Beca wants to kiss her, or whisper, “I love you,” or rip her clothes off.

Then she remembers.

She feels pathetic, pining after her best friend, and kind of like a bad person for pining after her  _taken_  best friend.

She needs to move on.

In retrospect, it was probably an irresponsible decision to ask Stacie to set Beca up, but she actually manages to find a decent guy (on the third try, but a decent guy nonetheless).

Andrew is nice and likes music, and seems not to mind when Beca tells him she isn’t looking for anything super serious right now. They have fun when they hang out, and he knows all of these great little cafes and bars near campus that have live music.

For some reason, though, Chloe hates him.

She claims she doesn’t, but she always says his name like the words taste sour in her mouth, and whenever Beca mentions him Chloe tenses and looks away.

It seems almost like… jealousy. Which would make no sense, since Chloe seems happy with Tom.

One evening, Chloe asks Beca if she wants to cuddle up in bed and binge-watch old seasons of America’s Next Top Model on Chloe’s laptop. Reluctantly, Beca declines—she’s meeting Andrew for pizza in an hour.

Chloe stiffens, lip curling. “Well,” she says curtly, turning to leave the room.

Beca’s had it. “What’s your deal?” she says, moving to stand in front of Chloe.

“What do you mean?” Chloe asks, although the look on her face tells Beca she knows exactly what she means.

“Every time I mention Andrew you get all…” Beca gestures vaguely. “I don’t know. Pissed.”

Chloe lets out a short sigh, and Beca can see the muscles flex in her jaw. “I just don’t like him for you,” she says after a moment.

“Why not?” Beca tries to reach for Chloe’s hand, but she pulls away. “Chloe, come on. You’re acting like a jealous ex or something.” She means it jokingly, but Chloe’s eyes harden.

“I have to go,” Chloe says, brushing past Beca and out the door.

Beca just stands there, bewildered.

(Maybe it’s that time of the month?)

* * *

Beca is attempting to wrestle her hair into cooperating when Chloe barges though the door half an hour later.

“Um, hi,” Beca drawls, “do come in.”

“Don’t go out with Andrew,” Chloe blurts. It makes Beca even more confused, but Chloe looks nervous, which never happens.

“What? Why? And you have to actually answer me this time,” Beca says, crossing her arms.

“Because.” Chloe pauses. “I broke up with Tom.” Then without preamble, she strides across the room and—before Beca realizes what’s happening—grabs Beca’s cheeks and kisses her.

It only lasts about five seconds, because that’s how long it takes for Beca to come to her senses and pull back. “Chloe, I can’t.”

Chloe’s eyes cloud with panic. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sor—”

“Chloe.” Beca holds up a hand, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at her lips. “I can’t right now because I have to go meet Andrew"—Chloe bristles—"and tell him I can’t see him anymore.”

Chloe’s eyes widen, her lips parting in surprise. “Wait, what?”

Beca can’t help but laugh. “I can’t in good conscience make out with you while he’s waiting for me.” She turns to grab her phone and her keys. “Give me twenty minutes.”

Chloe blinks, looking stunned for a moment before a wide grin splits her face. “Hurry back,” she purrs, trailing a finger down Beca’s arm.

Beca swallows hard. “I will.”

She’ll run if she has to.


	105. Chapter 105

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where (child) Emily says a curse word in front of Chloe, and when Chloe asks who taught her that word, Emily says she heard Beca say it?

Beca has a swearing problem.

It’s not a secret; everyone who knows her knows that “Go fuck yourself” is her idea of an endearment.

Chloe doesn’t really have a problem with it (although she’d  _prefer_  that Beca not hiss at teenage girls in movie theaters to “shut the fuck up”).

That is, she didn’t until the day her five-year-old daughter knocks over her glass of milk and exclaims, “God fucking dammit!”

Chloe is momentarily stunned, staring in horror at her angelic little Emily, whose innocence has now been permanently corrupted.

(Okay, so she might be being a  _tad_  bit dramatic.)

Snapping out of it, she grabs a handful of paper towels and starts wiping up the puddle. “Um, sweetie,” she says carefully, knowing that a strong reaction might only encourage Emily to say it more, “where did you hear those words?”

Emily blinks at her, cookie crumbs dusted across her lips. “Mama.”  _Of course._  “She dropped her phone and she said, ‘God fucking dammit!’” Emily waves her hands animatedly, inflection rising in an imitation of Chloe’s idiot of a wife.

“Well,” Chloe says, brushing Emily’s hair back away from her face, “those are not very nice words that we shouldn’t be saying.”

“But Mama said them,” Emily says, looking confused.

“Mama shouldn’t be using those words, either,” Chloe tells her. “But sometimes grown-ups say them by accident.”

“Oh,” Emily says, “okay. Can I have more milk?”

“Sure, honey,” Chloe says, heading over to the fridge.

_One down, one to go._

* * *

“So Emily said something interesting today,” Chloe says later that night as Beca is putting on her pajamas.

“Yeah?” Beca asks, voice muffled by the t-shirt she’s pulling over her head. “What’s what?”

“What were the words she used?” Chloe pretends to think. “Oh, right. She spilled her milk and said—and I quote—'God fucking dammit.’”

Beca freezes. “Shit.”

“She said she heard it from you,” Chloe continues.

Beca stares at her for a moment, looking guilty. “Oops.”

“Can you  _please_  try and watch your mouth?” Chloe asks as Beca crawls into bed next to her.

“Oh, come on,” Beca says, tucking an arm behind her head. “They’re just words. If people get offended by them, that’s their problem.”

Chloe presses her fingertips into her temples. “Bec, we can’t have Emily teaching the kids in her class that kind of language.”

Beca scoffs and rolls her eyes. “They’ll be saying it soon enough.”

“Beca—”

“Okay, fine,” Beca interrupts, holding up her free hand, “I’ll try not to swear in front of her.”

“You need to do more than try,” Chloe grumbles. She just  _had_  to marry the most frustrating woman on the planet.

Beca looks at her, smirking. “Or what?”

“Or,” Chloe says, drawing out the word, “I won’t touch you until you stop.”

Beca’s mouth falls open, and for a moment no words come out. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” Chloe says coyly.

Beca groans. “ _Fine._  I’ll keep it G-rated.”

“Excellent.” Chloe swings a leg over Beca’s midsection to straddle her, pulling her shirt off and tossing it onto the floor. Beca watches with wide eyes, hands settling on Chloe’s hips. “I promise,” Chloe purrs, reveling in how quickly Beca’s pupils dilate, “to make it worth your while.”

“Fuck,” Beca mutters, and then she quickly covers her mouth. “I mean—”

Chloe cuts her off with a kiss.

(It’s the only foolproof way to shut Beca up.)


	106. Chapter 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could u do one depicting a hectic morning in their household as they try to get their 5 kids ready for school? I always thought it'd be funny to see them with a big family.

When Beca was nine, she had a pet fish.

It died after four days.

How the  _fuck_ did she end up with five kids?

Beca had never really considered having any kids, let alone five. But Chloe had always wanted a family, and after Emily was born, Beca wanted the second child just as much as Chloe. And then Justin was so precious that they decided to have one more.

And ended up with triplets.

Their house is complete and utter chaos, between school and sports and music lessons. Sometimes Beca’s biggest accomplishment is just ending a day with all five children intact and inside the house.

Chloe, of course, is supermom. Most of the time, Beca comes home from work to find that Chloe has already made dinner, helped Emily with her math homework, picked Justin up from baseball practice, and bathed the triplets.

Beca doesn’t know how she does it.

Mornings are particularly hectic.

“Mo-o-m!” Emily shouts from upstairs, “where is my purple t-shirt?”

“In the laundry room,” Chloe yells back from her spot at the counter where she’s fixing sandwiches. “I washed it yesterday.” She points the knife she’s using to spread mayonnaise at Justin, who is poking at his cereal at the kitchen table. “Justin, you need to eat or we’re going to be late.”

“I still can’t find it!” Emily calls, and Chloe sighs.

“Can you finish this?” she asks Beca, who is picking up Cheerios off of the floor. One of the triplets is in a throwing phase.

“Yeah, sure,” Beca says, standing up.

“Emily likes turkey, and lettuce. Mayo on one side, mustard on the other,” Chloe says, wiping her hand son a towel. “Justin gets two slices of turkey, one of ham, lettuce, and mustard. No mayo.” She shoves the knife into Beca’s hand. “And three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the triplets—two with strawberry jelly and one with grape jelly. Thanks!”

“Um,” Beca says, already haven forgotten half of Chloe’s instructions. But Chloe is already thundering up the stairs, so Beca just crosses her fingers and sets to work.

“Mom,” Justin calls from the table.

“What?” Beca asks, not bothering to look up.

“Bella is squishing a banana in her hair.”

Beca’s head snaps up this time to see that one of the triplets is, in fact, doing just that. “God dammit,” Beca groans under her breath, grabbing a handful of paper towels. “Bella, stop that.”

Her daughter just grins at her, stuffing Cheerios into her mouth. Beca does her best to wipe the food out, but it’s sticky and clumped around her hair.

“Mom,” Justin says again, “Melody is putting Cheerios in her nose.”

“Hey!” Beca drops the paper towels and grabs her daughter’s hand before she can stick any more cereal in her nostrils. “Food goes in the mouth  _only_.”

“Mom.”

“What?” Beca snaps, then immediately softens her tone. “Sorry. What is it?”

“You have mayonnaise on her cheek,” Justin says, sliding out of his chair and moving to put his bowl in the dishwasher.

Beca touches her face. “How the fuck…?” she mutters, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. “Are you done?” Justin nods, and Beca glances at the clock. “You have, like, ten minutes to get dressed. And don’t forget to brush your teeth!” Beca shouts after him as she darts up the stairs.

“Mama?” Harmony—the only remaining triplet who hasn’t tested Beca’s patience this morning—says.

“What, sweetie?” Beca asks through gritted teeth, five seconds away from dumping all of her children out onto the street.

“I love you,” Harmony says with a toothy grin, her nose scrunching adorably.

Beca can feel her heart melt a bit. “Aw, baby,” she says, planting a big kiss on her daughter’s forehead. Harmony still smells like fruity shampoo from her bath last night and something that Beca can’t quite put her finger on but is very distinctly Chloe. “I love you, too.”

Five kids is a lot of work, but at the end of the day, it’s worth it, and Beca wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“ _Mooom!_ Justin took my toothpaste!”

She just has to keep reminding herself that.


	107. Chapter 107

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Beca is blind?

There’s a blind girl who frequents Chloe’s favorite coffee shop. 

She always takes her order to a table in the corner, folds up her cane, pulls a laptop out of her backpack, and sides a pair of headphones over her ears. 

Chloe’s been watching her for a couple of weeks now as the girl taps away at her keyboard, dark blue eyes staring blankly ahead. 

She’s intrigued by the girl by the girl and her laptop—more specifically,  _how_ the girl uses her laptop.

Curiosity gets the better of her one day, and Chloe walks up behind the girl’s chair as quietly as possible, lingering there for a moment to try and get a look at the computer.

“Can I help you?” the girl says, and Chloe jumps. “I may not be able to see, but I have very good hearing.”

“Oh, I, uh, was just… going to the bathroom,” Chloe lies.

“No, you weren’t,” the girl counters simply, but she has a slight smile on her face. “You know, you can ask.”

Chloe blinks, surprised. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

The girl chuckles. “It’s better than having you creep over my shoulders.” She gestures to the chair across from her. “Have a seat.”

Cautiously, Chloe moves around the table and sits down. “I’m Chloe,” she says, by way of introduction.

“Beca.” She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, and Chloe can see that she has a pair of headphones tattooed on the inside of her wrist.

“So…” Chloe starts, feeling awkward. “How does your laptop work?”

Beca shrugs. “Luck.”

Chloe stares at her, unsure if she’s joking or not.

“Tough crowd,” Beca says after a moment of silence. “There’s a setting on my laptop that reads the screen. I control everything from the keyboard, which is Braille.” She turns the computer towards Chloe. “You can touch it, if you want.”

Chloe runs her fingers over the keyboard, feeling the rigidity of the bumps under her fingertips. “That’s cool,” she says, and Beca turns the laptop back. 

“God bless modern technology,” Beca jokes, and Chloe allows herself to laugh this time.

There’s a pause. “I always see you here around this time,” Chloe comments, trying to continue the conversation. There’s something about Beca that Chloe is attracted to, even though she’s a total stranger.

“This is my break time,” Beca explains, closing the lid of her laptop. “I work up the block.”

“What do you do?” Chloe asks, watching as Beca’s fingers tap absently at the surface of the table.

“I work at a recording studio.”

“Really?” She probably should have guessed it was something music-related from Beca’s tattoo.

Beca arches an eyebrow. “What did you think I do? Answer telephones at a call center?”

“No, not at all,” Chloe says quickly, although she’s starting to get used to Beca’s sarcasm. “I love music, so that’s really cool.”

“Do you play an instrument or something?” Beca asks.

“I sing.” 

Beca picks at the cardboard of her coffee cup. “Oh, really?”

“What did you think I do?” Chloe says, biting her lip to keep from smiling (although Beca wouldn’t be able to see it).

Beca snorts. “Touché.” She taps the screen of her phone twice. “ _3:37_ ,” it bleats. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have to get back to work.”

“Okay,” Chloe says, feeling strangely disappointed. ”I’ll see you around?”

Beca shakes her head. “I can’t see.”

Chloe stares at her for a minute, unsure how to react, before Beca bursts out laughing. “Very funny,” Chloe grumbles.

“Sorry,” Beca says, but she doesn’t seem very apologetic. “Yes, I’ll be here at the regular time tomorrow.” She slings her backpack over her shoulder and unfolds her cane. “Bye, Chloe.”

“See you!” Chloe calls, then immediately bites her tongue. “I mean bye!”

She’ll get there.


	108. Chapter 108

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write one where Chloe drags Beca out to go see fireworks for the 4th of July, and they end up making out during the fireworks. I don't know, you can do whatever you want with it.

“Whyyyyy?”

“Beca,” Chloe says, tugging on Beca’s hand, her girlfriend’s sneakered feet scuffing on the pavement, “stop complaining.”

“Fireworks are stupid,” Beca grumbles.

Chloe whirls around, mouth falling open. “Take it back!”

“You can literally just search for them on YouTube,” Beca points out. “No need to sit out here with all of the bugs and”—she looks around, wrinkling her nose—” _children_.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and resumes dragging Beca over to the grass. “Well, too bad, because I want to see them.”

Beca groans, but follows as Chloe picks out a spot and spreads out a blanket. “If I get a million mosquito bites, I’m blaming you.”

“That’s fine.” Chloe plunks herself down, tugging Beca down as well. “We are going to watch the fireworks and I don’t want to hear any complaining.”

“Yes, mom,” Beca drawls, but she cuddles into Chloe’s side and tucks her head in the crook of her neck.

Beca finds that she doesn’t actually mind the fireworks so much—not because she gives two shits about them, but because watching Chloe watch the fireworks is fairly entertaining. Her eyes are wide and bright, and she “ooh”s and “ahh”s at the different colors and patterns. Chloe is beautiful when she smiles, her face illuminated different colors by the lights.

Beca can’t help her wandering hands—over Chloe’s cheek, down her arm, and, briefly, under the hem of her shirt.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, pulling back a bit to look at her, “there are children he—”

Beca cuts her off by pressing their lips together, taking Chloe’s bottom lip gently between her own. Chloe whimpers softly, and Beca swings a leg over her torso to straddle her, hands tangling in red locks.

Beca turns her attention to Chloe’s upper lip, tugging at it with her teeth. Chloe parts her lip, and Beca’s just about to slip her tongue inside when someone clears their throat loudly from above them.

Beca looks up to see a middle-aged woman standing there, arms crossed and looking rather annoyed. “Can I help you?” Beca asks, eyebrows raised.

“I’d rather not have to explain to my daughter where babies come from tonight,” the woman says before spinning on her heel and stalking away.

Beca stares after her for a moment, then rolls off of Chloe. “Does  _she_ know where babies come from?” She glances over at Chloe, who is breathing hard, pupils dilated. “You okay?”

“We need to leave,” Chloe says, moving onto her knees and tugging at the blanket.

“Wait, what?” Beca moves off of the fabric so Chloe can fold it up. “I thought you wanted to watch the fireworks.”

Chloe rolls the blanket into a lump and gathers it into her arms, starting back towards the parking lot. “Fireworks are stupid,” she says over her shoulder, and Beca hurries to catch up.

She isn’t going to argue.


	109. Chapter 109

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca is afraid of spiders so she loses her badass attitude and acts like a baby while Chloe has to come and kill the spider?

Chloe’s about to get in the shower when she hears the ear-splitting shriek.

Quickly, she throws on her bathrobe and runs out of the bathroom, searching for the source of the sound. There’s another scream, followed by a  _thud_ , and Chloe follows the noise upstairs into Beca and Amy’s room.

She finds Beca curled up on top of her desk wearing only one shoe. (The other is on the floor several feet away.)

“What’s going on?” Chloe asks, heart pounding from sprinting up the steps. “It sounded like someone was getting murdered in here.”

Beca looks at her with wild eyes. “There was a spider,” she hisses, like she’s afraid to give away her location.

Chloe stares at her for a moment. “Let me get this straight,” she says. “You are hiding on your desk, screaming like you’re being stabbed, because you saw a  _spider_.”

“Um.” Beca looks away, cheeks reddening a bit. “Yes?”

“What are you, five?” Chloe can’t help but tease.

Beca gives her a hard look that tells Chloe she doesn’t appreciate being made fun of. “It was a big spider,” she defends, and Chloe bites her lip to keep from smiling at how cute she looks, all bent out of shape by a bug.

“It’s not going to hurt y—”

She’s cut off by another shriek. “There it is!” Beca points to the floor, scrambling back on the desk.

Chloe looks where she’s pointing; sure enough, there’s a spider about the size of a dime scurrying across the rug. “That’s the big, bad spider?” Chloe asks amusedly.

“Don’t make fun of me, just kill it!” Beca shouts, eyes never leaving the spider.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She grabs the discarded shoe on the floor and slams it down over the spider. She watches it for a moment to be sure it’s dead before looking up at Beca. “Happy?”

Cautiously, Beca climbs down from the desk, as if the spider will somehow resurrect and attack her. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

“Anything for my princess,” Chloe says, winking. Beca grimaces but doesn’t say anything. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”

She’s halfway down the stairs when she hears Beca scream again.

“There’s an  _ant_!”


	110. Chapter 110

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you pretty please do one where Chloe has like taken sex off the table?

Chloe Beale can be sneaky, conniving, and evil.

It’s just that no one believes this because she is also a big, fluffy, puppy.

But when Chloe gets mad, people suffer.

(Like Beca. Beca is suffering.)

And, okay, it’s  _partially_  Beca’s fault, because she can never seem to keep her big mouth shut, but Chloe is taking this way too far.

Beca hasn’t had sex in three weeks because she told Chloe she’d rather be hit by a bus than out twerking in the choreography.

It wasn’t the most eloquent way to put it, and Beca didn’t mean to hurt Chloe’s feelings, but she stands by what she said.

Plus, she thinks it’s really unfair that Chloe would withhold sex over something so trivial.

But mostly Beca is  _dying._

Chloe still lets her sleep in her bed, but whenever Beca tries to…  _initiate_ , Chloe bats her hands away and rolls over.

Beca obviously would never force sex, but after three weeks, enough is enough.

She waits until Chloe is in bed reading, because she doesn’t want to risk one of the Bellas coming into the room to find her. Beca closes the door and stands at the foot of the bed until Chloe looks up.

“What?” Chloe asks, frowning a little.

Very slowly, Beca peels her t-shirt over her head and drops it on the floor, followed by her shorts, revealing a black lace bra-and-thong set that she had been  _planning_  on saving for Chloe’s birthday.

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

Chloe stares at her, slightly openmouthed as Beca plants her hands on her hips, trying to flex her stomach muscles without being too obvious.

“Beca, what are you—”

Maintaining eye contact, Beca reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, smirking when Chloe lets out a strangled noise before biting down on her lip. She’s about to pull off her underwear as well, but Chloe holds up a hand.

“Come here,” she says, crooking her finger in a come-hither motion.

Eagerly, Beca crawls onto the bed, allowing Chloe to push her onto her back, head against the pillows. Her heart pounds, unsure of what’s going to happen next.

“Let me,” is all Chloe says as she scoots down Beca’s body, winking at her before— _holy shit_ —taking the elastic of Beca’s panties and pulling them down with her teeth.

“Does this mean you’re going to have sex with me again?” Beca asks breathlessly as Chloe discards her underwear onto the floor. She doesn’t answer, instead pulling off her clothes with a lascivious smile that makes Beca’s breath hitch in anticipation.

Then Chloe dips her head between Beca’s legs and does things with her tongue that almost makes it worth the three-week drought.

Almost.


	111. Chapter 111

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca and Chloe are already married but problems arise, causing Chloe to nearly end things, but they somehow get through it?

By age twenty-eight, Chloe is married to a beautiful woman, has a job she loves, and a home of her own.

It’s everything she thought she could ever want—she’s financially stable, happy, and has a wife who loves her.

But she can’t help but feel like Beca is cheating on her—not with another person, because Beca would  _never_  do that to her, but with her work.

Chloe has always known that Beca’s work is very important to her, and it’s their shared love of music that brought them together in the first place (that, and Chloe’s unabashed creepiness). But Beca is hardly at home during the week, and when she is, she’s got her headphones clamped over her ears, working on so-and-so’s new album or such-and-such’s latest single. And on the rare occasion that Beca isn’t glued to her laptop, she’s grouchy and stressed.

Chloe loves her, but this isn’t the Beca she married.

She tries everything to get Beca to interact with her— _really_  interact, not just lie half-asleep in her lap as they watch television on the couch or have dinner while Beca is on her Bluetooth—her favorite food, tickets to a concert, sexy lingerie. But nothing really seems to pull Beca out of work mode. She tries talking to her wife, but it’s always “Not now Chloe,” or “I’m in the middle of a mix, Chloe,” or “Can this wait, like, five minutes?” (which really turns into two hours). It starts to make Chloe think that maybe Beca just isn’t invested in their relationship anymore.

One day, Chloe decides she’s had enough.

“Beca, I need to talk to you,” she says when Beca comes home from work.

Beca barely even looks at her as she throws her keys on the kitchen counter. “Can we do it tomorrow? I’m really tired.”

“Do you still love me?” Chloe blurts, and it’s not what she meant to lead with, but it gets Beca’s attention.

“What?” Beca asks, stopping dead in her tracks. “Chlo, of course I do. Why would you even ask that?”

“Because you don’t talk to me, or spend time with me, or—or—”  _Don’t cry_ , Chloe tells herself,  _don’t cry_. “We don’t even have  _sex_ , Bec. You’re always working.”

“I…” Beca starts, but she trails off, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate at the studio.”

“I know,” Chloe says, sniffling a little. “But it feels like you don’t ever make time for me.”

“Chloe, you know I love you more than anything in the world, right?” Beca says, coming to sit beside her on the couch and taking her hands. Chloe nods. “I’ve just been so caught up in everything, I didn’t realize what a shitty wife I’ve been.”

“You’re not a shitty wife,” Chloe protests weakly, although, yeah, she’s been a pretty shitty wife.

“No, I have been,” Beca says. “But I’m going to change that.”

“Really?” Chloe asks before she can stop herself. She expected Beca to be defensive—maybe even tell her that they should break up.

Beca chuckles. “Really. Starting now, I’ll leave work at work. Unless it’s absolutely necessary, but I’ll tell you when that happens. I’ll"—she grimaces, like the words pain her—” _delegate_  more stuff at the studio so I can be home earlier. How’s that sound?“

"Perfect,” Chloe says, tugging Beca in by her shirt collar for a kiss. When they break apart, Chloe says, “Now take off your clothes.”

Beca blinks, looking confused, but she starts to unbutton her shirt. “What? Why?”

“Because we haven’t had sex in a month,” Chloe says, pulling her own shirt up and over her head. “We have a lot of time to make up for.”


	112. Chapter 112

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a prompt where Beca and Chloe think they've been hiding their relationship from the other Bellas really well but they have all known like, the ENTIRE time.

Beca and Chloe are the most obvious people on the planet. 

Honestly, Cynthia Rose is kind of offended that they think they’ve fooled anyone.

It’s not even because she’s gay that she figures it out—even Emily knows they’re together.

 _Emily_. The girl probably still thinks that babies are brought by storks.

Chloe is friendly and flirty with everyone, but Beca is about as subtle as a billboard—one with “TOTALLY HIT THAT” printed across it. Beca’s always stared at Chloe—it’s what originally prompted Cynthia Rose to start a betting pool for when Beca would realize her big lesbian crush—but now she looks at Chloe like she knows  _exactly_ what’s under her clothes.

Which she does, because when two people disappear into a room and moaning can be heard from that same room fifteen minutes later, it’s pretty obvious what the occupants are doing.

Stacie even saw them sneak into a utility closet after rehearsal one day.

The only question now is: When are Beca and Chloe going to tell everyone?

Amy has $50 on by the end of the week. Flo bet $20 on next month. And Stacie bet $100 that they won’t until graduation.

Emily just seemed confused and asked, “Isn’t gambling illegal?”

It turns out they were all wrong—and poor Emily paid the price.

There’s a shriek followed by a slamming door, and then Emily thunders down the stairs yelling, “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” She comes to a stop in the living room, looking traumatized.

“Girl, what happened?” Cynthia Rose asks from her spot on the couch.

“I didn’t mean to!” Emily blurts, although no one is accusing her of anything. “I just wanted to ask Chloe if I could borrow her straightener and I, um,  _interrupted_ …” She trails off.

“Oh my God, you walked in on them doing it?” Stacie exclaims gleefully, although she’s just become short $100.

“I didn’t mean to!” Emily repeats, grimacing. “I’m never gonna get that image out of my head.”

“Have you ever seen two wallabies go at it?” Amy asks. “Whatever Beca and Chloe were doing can’t be worse than that.”

Footsteps can be heard on the stairs before Beca appears in the living room, Chloe on her heels. Both of them have swollen lips and mussed hair, and Cynthia Rose thinks Beca’s shirt is on inside out.

“You two have some explaining to do,” Cynthia Rose says, crossing her arms.

“I think Emily seeing my junk is explanation enough,” Beca grumbles, her cheeks red.

“About that,” Stacie cuts in. “Were you gonna tell us, or…?”

“Yeah, you two are about as sneaky as a capybara on roller skates,” Amy chimes in. (Cynthia Rose doesn’t really know what that means, but it sounds accurate.)

“The sex sounds pretty damn good,” Stacie adds with a wink. “I bet you two are really good with your mouths.”

“This,” Beca huffs, throwing her arms out, “is why we didn’t tell you. This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Beca and I are together,” Chloe cuts in. She’s been quiet up until now, so Cynthia Rose didn’t notice the way her cheeks are flushed or how her chest is heaving. “Now you know to knock first. Are we done here?”

With that, Chloe grabs Beca’s wrist and tugs her back towards the stairs.

The rest of the Bellas stare after them in stunned silence.

“So, about that bet…” Stacie says after a moment.

Cynthia Rose just shakes her head amusedly. “Forget about it.”


	113. Chapter 113

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a couple of people on ff.net, who wanted a follow-up to the blind!Beca ficlet.

Beca sees the world though her fingers—the rain that runs in rivers down the window, the golden fur of a passing dog, the ridged vinyl of an old record.

She’s made it her personal mission to see every inch of Chloe.

Beca loves Chloe’s hair; she’s always running her fingers through it, absently stroking it, twisting it around her fingers.

She starts here, tugging playfully at it before brushing her fingertips across Chloe’s forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and over her cheeks. Beca runs her index finger over the seam of Chloe’s lips and moves down her neck, pausing to feel the flutter of Chloe’s pulse.

Next, her fingers trail down over Chloe’s collarbones, nails scratching the skin in a way that makes Chloe shiver.

Chloe watches as Beca palms her breasts; her eyes close and her tongue pokes out to wet her lips when she feels Chloe’s nipples harden against her hands. Teasingly, Beca strokes the pads of her thumbs over the rigid peaks, and Chloe arches her back with a soft moan.

She doesn’t stay there for long, though; she runs her hands down Chloe’s sides, fingertips brushing over every rib before moving inward to her abdomen.

Beca has an odd fascination with Chloe’s abdominal muscles, and she presses down gently as if to test the firmness. It tickles, and Chloe lets out a light laugh, prompting Beca to smile in response and circle Chloe’s bellybutton before trailing lower, brushing over her hipbones.

Chloe’s hips lift on instinct, but Beca avoids touching her where Chloe wants her most, instead grazing the sensitive skin of Chloe’s inner thighs. Chloe wonders if Beca can feel the goosebumps that break out over her skin. (Beca’s smirk tells her that yes, she can.)

Beca’s fingers continue their path down Chloe’s legs (thank God she shaved them yesterday) until she reaches her toes. Then she stops and presses her lips to Chloe’s ankle, dragging them up her leg, nipping at the skin periodically.

Chloe is practically shaking with need, and it becomes apparent that Beca is planning on following her fingers’ path with her mouth.

“Beca, don’t you dare,” Chloe says warningly.

Beca pauses, turning her head in Chloe’s direction. Her smirk is maddening. “Hey, be nice to me. I’m flying blind here.”

It takes every bit of Chloe’s patience not to knock her girlfriend backwards off of the bed.


	114. Chapter 114

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For someone on ff.net, who requested a fic based on the song “Wish You Were Here” by Avril Lavigne.

_I can be tough_  
I can be strong  
But with you  
It’s not like that at all  
There’s a girl  
That gives a shit  
Behind this wall  
You just walked through it

* * *

Beca doesn’t realize how much of her life revolves around Chloe until she’s gone.

(Okay, that sounds dramatic. Chloe’s not, like, dead or anything—she’s home in Miami for some cousin’s wedding.)

The first thing Beca is struck by is how strange it feels to wake up alone—in fact, she can’t remember the last time she didn’t wake up in Chloe’s bed (or vice versa) after a late-night television-show marathoning session. Or after Chloe crawled into her bed rather than her own for no reason other than, “I like your bed better.”

She’s weird like that.

Beca discovers that she has no idea how to work the Keurig; Chloe always made coffee or tea for them while Beca showers.

* * *

 _And I remember all those crazy things you said_  
You left them running through my head  
You’re always there, you’re everywhere  
But right now I wish you were here

* * *

When Beca gets home from class, she’s halfway up the stairs to Chloe’s room when she remembers that she’ll have to study alone today. She  _could_ just go to her own room, but the after last time she tried to study with Amy she had to buy a new textbook. (Long story.)

Beca heads to the library for a few hours; she stops in the campus store on her way home, adding a bag of gummy bears to her purchases on instinct. It’s not until she’s unloading her backpack that she realizes that Chloe isn’t here to eat them.

Oh, well. She’ll give them to Amy.

* * *

 _All those crazy things we did_  
Didn’t think about it, just went with it  
You’re always there, you’re everywhere  
But right now I wish you were here

* * *

Practice without Chloe is weird. And also very, very wild.

(Beca never realized just how much Chloe kept everyone in line.)

She ends up calling it early when Emily gets knocked over by Flo and Stacie (who are doing some strange forward-roll-esque  _thing_  that mostly just looks dangerous) and almost hits her head on the piano.

It’s clear that nothing is getting accomplished, and Chloe would probably be pretty pissed if anyone ended up breaking a bone.

* * *

 _Damn, damn, damn,_  
What I’d do to have you  
Here, here, here  
I wish you were here

* * *

Chloe Skypes her later that night when she gets some time away from her family, and it isn’t until Beca is able to see her face and hear her voice that she fully realizes how much she misses her.

Beca fills her in on the events of the day (but leaves out the bit about Emily nearly getting a concussion. Their conversation lulls and Beca just stares at Chloe for few moments, her chest clenching almost painfully.

“What?” Chloe asks, leaning into the camera.

“Nothing,” Beca says, but it comes out a little strangled and she has to clear her throat. “I just… miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Becs,” Chloe says. “I’ll be home on Friday.”

“I know,” Beca says quietly. “It feels like you’ve been gone for forever.”

“I feel like I’ve been here for forever,” Chloe answers with a laugh.

Beca bites her lip, debating asking Chloe a question. She doesn’t want to sound clingy, and she definitely doesn’t want to sound vulnerable.

“What are you thinking about?” Chloe asks. Beca shouldn’t be surprised; Chloe has always been able to read her like a book.

“Can you…” Beca takes a breath. “Sing something? I miss your voice.”

Chloe’s eyes widen slightly, surprised, but she nods.

Beca falls asleep to the sound of Chloe singing “Torn,” and when she wakes up the next morning, she has four voicemails and a text message from Chloe:

_**Chloe Beale:**  Listen to one each night until I’m home. xx_

* * *

_Damn, damn, damn_  
What I’d do to have you  
Near, near, near  
I wish you were here


	115. Chapter 115

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one whereBeca is really into sports but kind of lowkey and after a while of dating Beca is dragging Chloe to every basketball game she can (plus imagine Beca Mitchell in a jersey bc I mean)

Beca Mitchell is not the kind of person that Chloe ever would have guessed would be into sports.

Really, half the time the girl can’t even walk across campus without tripping over her own feet. 

It’s actually quite cute how excited Beca gets watching basketball. She tries to rein it in, but Chloe can see the way her eyes flick back and forth across the television screen, subtly clenching her fists at close plays or last-second shots, leaning forward, elbows on her knees.

Chloe is actually the one to suggest they go to one of the Barden basketball games. Their team sucks, of course—it’s division three, so she’s not expecting anything spectacular—but Beca looks so adorably thrilled that Chloe will gladly sit through the game.

It’s actually pretty fun; Beca watches the game and Chloe watches Beca watch the game, which is entertaining. Chloe doesn’t really have any idea what’s going on, but that’s fine, too.

After their third game, Chloe buys Beca a Barden Knights basketball jersey. Beca calls her a nerd, but she’s grinning, and when she comes out of her room to leave for the game that night she’s wearing it proudly.

(Chloe may have bought one for herself so they can match.)

The Knights make it to some sort of important game—some sort of playoff to find out who is the least mediocre. (Don’t tell Beca she said that; if anyone asks, it’s  _very important_.)

Beca lets Chloe paint her face yellow and green, and the result is the cutest thing Chloe has ever seen. (She doesn’t tell Beca that, though, because knowing her she’d run back upstairs and scrub it all off.)

Maybe it’s the pre-game shots they’d done before they left (Amy had insisted it was a necessity, although in hindsight Chloe has no idea why they listened to her on any athletic matter), but Beca doesn’t seem to be holding anything back, screaming her head off and jumping onto her feet every few minutes. Chloe wishes she had it on video, especially when Beca very enthusiastically participates in the wave.

They don’t win—not that anyone really expected them to, because the fact that they made it this far was a huge shock, but Chloe is surprised to find that she’s a little disappointed.

Oh, well. Chloe has an unopened bottle of tequila back at the house and an adorably tipsy girlfriend. All is not lost.


	116. Chapter 116

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't much of a prompt (sorry) but how bout uncharacteristically sad Chloe makes Beca realize her true feelings for her.. And then somehow struggles to tell her and yeah. With kissing.

Chloe just hasn’t been herself since the muffgate fiasco.

She’s been stressed, mostly—Beca can get that, what with having spent an extra three years in school only to have the Bellas blow up in her face—but every so often she gets very quiet and stares off into space looking like someone just shot her puppy in front of her.

She still does her usual Chloe stuff, like getting drunk and singing showtunes outside of Beca’s door at 3 in the morning, so Beca isn’t  _too_  concerned.

As annoying as that was, though, Beca would take drunk showtunes over this strange sad not-Chloe any day. Beca’s never been good with feelings; she never knows what to do  _for_  Chloe, and it makes her chest hurt to see her upset.

Beca knocks on Chloe’s door a couple days after the (very strange) riff-off to ask her to listen to a new arrangement, but she finds her sitting on her bed, looking blankly at the wall. Her eyes are slightly red, and a tissue is balled in one of her hands, so Beca gets the idea that she’s been crying.

Her first instinct is to just turn and walk away before she somehow makes it worse, but Beca’s pretty sure that’s not good friend behavior.

Her next thought is that she wants to wrap Chloe in a blanket and cuddle her until the cloud passes, but she doesn’t think that’s friend behavior either.

“You okay, Chlo?” Beca asks instead, moving to sit next to Chloe on the bed.

Chloe blinks at her slowly, like her eyelids are weighted. “Fine,” she says, but her voice is rough and she sounds tired.

“You don’t look fine,” Beca says. 

“Oh, you know. I’ve invested a huge amount of time, energy, and money into something that’s going to be over once we embarrass ourselves at worlds.” Chloe shrugs. “The usual.”

Beca isn’t quite sure what to say, so she wraps an arm around Chloe and pulls her into her side. “We’re not going to embarrass ourselves at worlds.”

Chloe turns and looks at her with an expression so sad it knocks the air out of Beca’s lungs, and for the first time she wants to smack Legacy upside the head for losing the riff-off for them. 

“Okay,” Chloe says, although it sounds less like she believes Beca and more like she’s trying to appease her. Beca looks at her downturned lips and thinks about how she’d do anything to curve them upward again. Like kiss them.

Wait.

Beca loves Chloe.

The realization hits Beca like a truck, and her arm stiffens around Chloe’s waist. 

“Beca?” Chloe asks, and Beca knows that she probably looks like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you okay?”

“I’m—”  _fine_ , Beca starts to say, but she cuts herself off, because she’s not fine. She  _can’t_ be fine when Chloe isn’t fine, but she doesn’t really know how to say that, so before she realizes what she’s doing she presses her lips to Chloe’s.

It lasts all of three seconds before Beca comes to her senses and pulls away, horror roiling in her stomach.

“Oh, my God, I am so sorr—”

The final syllable is muffled when Chloe reconnects their lips. Beca sits stunned for a moment before tangling her fingers in Chloe’s hair and kissing her back with everything she has. 

“What was that?” Beca asks breathlessly once they break apart.

“I’ve always wanted to shut you up by kissing you,” Chloe says nonchalantly. 

It takes a few seconds for the words to register because Beca’s distracted by the fact that Chloe is smiling again. “Wait, how long is  _always_?”

Chloe waves her hand vaguely. “Two and a half years.”

Beca kind of wants to laugh and cry at the same time. “Well, why didn’t you?”

“I thought you would punch me,” Chloe says simply. 

“Oh.” It’s a pretty logical assumption aside from the fact that Beca has punched only one person in her life.

“Now I know better,” Chloe says with a wink. And then she laughs.

It’s the most beautiful sound Beca’s ever heard.


	117. Chapter 117

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do Bechloe phone sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Beca’s never done long distance before. 

In fact, she broke up with the boyfriend she had before coming to Barden because she didn’t want to deal with it.

Now she’s in LA while Chloe getting her Masters in music education, but Beca would rather stab herself in the foot than break up with Chloe.

They figure out ways to spend time together without  _actually_  spending time together: Watching the same movie at the same time, Skyping while Beca works and Chloe studies, constant texting throughout the day.

The only issue is the whole sex thing. In that Beca  _really_ misses it.

Touching herself gets the job done, but once you have sex with Chloe Beale it just isn’t the same.

Chloe has an idea, though.

Chloe is full of ideas—like sexting Beca while she’s at work or leaving dirty voicemails on her phone. So Beca is very wary of Chloe and her ideas.

Especially this one.

“Chloe,  _no_ ,” Beca says into the phone, cheeks heating at the very suggestion. 

“Oh, come on, Bec,” Chloe says, and Beca is willing to bet money that she’s smirking. “It’s the same thing as when we watch movies together.”

“Touching myself while on the phone with you is  _not_  the same as watching a movie!” Beca cries, scandalized. 

“You’re the one who said you were horny.”

“That isn’t what I said,” Beca denies, pressing the fingers of her free hand to her temple. “I said  _I miss you_.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say it like that. It was more,  _I miss you_ ,” Chloe mimics, sounding like a telephone sex operator.

“That’s your interpretation,” Beca grumbles, although Chloe isn’t wrong.

“Well, I’m going to get myself off,” Chloe tells her matter-of-factly, like she’s telling Beca it’s sunny outside. “See if you can resist.” Beca can practically hear the wink through the phone.

“I’ll hang up on you.”

“Go ahead,” Chloe challenges, knowing Beca won’t, and Beca really, really hates her sometimes.

Suddenly, she hears Chloe gasp through the phone.

“What? Are you okay?” Beca asks when Chloe doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“I’m so wet,” Chloe whines, and Beca nearly drops the phone.

 _Oh, okay,_ she thinks,  _this is really happening_.

After a minute of listening to nothing but heavy breathing, Beca can’t help but ask timidly, “What are you doing?”

“Teasing myself,” Chloe says, her voice low. “Wishing it was you.”

“Fuck,” Beca mutters, licking her lips and crossing one leg over the other in an attempt to keep her body from reacting.

“I miss your fingers,” Chloe all but moans into the phone, and Beca shifts on her couch, trying to ignore the pulse she feels starting between her legs. “And your tongue. I really miss your—” She cuts herself off with a high-pitched groan.

Against her better judgment, Beca shoves a shaking hand up her shirt and under her bra, pinching her nipples until they stiffen with a, “Goddammit, Beale.”

“I miss touching you, too,” Chloe pants. “You’re so beautiful, especially when you come.”

Beca can’t take it anymore. She unbuttons her shorts and shoves them down her hips just enough to give herself some wiggle room before pushing her fingers into her underwear.

She’s already embarrassingly wet; Beca  _hates_ how Chloe has turned her into a teenage boy, hates that she’s turned her into the kind of person who touches herself on her living room couch at two in the afternoon.

She must have made some sort of noise, because Chloe asks, “Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes,” Beca gasps back, fingers running tight circles around her clit, hips already bucking against her hand.

“I wish I could watch you,” Chloe says, voice tight like it’s difficult to speak. “I wish I could taste you.” She’s letting out the short, breathy moans that she does when she’s close.

Beca can feel herself getting close to the edge, too; she feels the warmth coiling low in her stomach, and she can’t stop the long groan that escapes her when she pushes one finger inside of herself.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asks, which Beca thinks is unfair, because she hasn’t done much other than moan into her ear herself.

“Inside,” is all Beca manages to say as she feels her muscles contract around her finger. “I’m close.”

“Me, too,” Chloe answers, the words strangled. She lets out a string of random vowel sounds before gasping out, “Be- _ca_ ,” followed by a moan.

It’s all it takes to send Beca into her own orgasm, and she nearly drops the phone as she folds in on herself, mumbling “fuck” over and over.

When she can finally breathe again, Beca glances at the clock. The whole thing lasted approximately five minutes, but she’s exhausted.

“Wow,” she says, heart still pumping wildly. She can still feel the little aftershocks twitch the muscles in her legs. There’s a beat of silence followed by some rustling noises. “Chloe?”

“Sorry,” Chloe says, “Aubrey knocked on the door.”

“Wait, what?” Beca is sure she’s heard incorrectly.

“She’s visiting for the weekend.”

Beca’s mouth falls open. “Chloe,  _please_ tell me you did not have phone sex with me while Aubrey was in the next room!”

“I didn’t have phone sex with you while Aubrey was in the next room,” Chloe echoes, but it’s blatantly obvious it’s a lie. It also sounds like she’s trying not to laugh.

Beca claps a hand over her eyes, face burning red. “We are never,  _ever,_ doing this again.”

“Yeah, say that to me again in a week,” Chloe says smugly. “I have to go. Love you!” And with that, the line goes dead.

Beca stares at her phone in disbelief.

She really, really hates Chloe sometimes.


	118. Chapter 118

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write one where Jesse and Beca's relationship is fizzling, and the only way Beca gets turned on during sex is by fantasizing about Chloe. But she gets carried away and starts moaning Chloe's name, and Jesse quickly catches on.

Beca has a problem. 

Actually, she has a lot of problems: The Bellas are a singing, dancing disaster. Her boss hates her mixes. Her relationship is falling apart.

But this is what she would call her _biggest_  problem.

She really does love Jesse. Or, at least, she  _did_. Or she thought she did.

They have fun when they’re together; they always have, even before they started dating. Aside from being her boyfriend, Beca has always considered Jesse to be one of her closest friends. 

The sex is… okay. It’s good, and sometimes it’s fun, but it’s not mind-blowingly  _great_. She can get off if she’s lucky and Jesse is feeling particularly energetic that day, but usually she has to finish the job herself once Jesse is out of gas. And yeah, maybe they could try something… different, but Beca can’t ever seem to gather the courage to ask. There just isn’t much of a physical attraction between them anymore.

Beca figures it’s normal; she always hears Stacie complaining about guys not being able to, um…  _finish the deed_ for her, although perhaps Beca shouldn’t be using her as a gauge about sex-related things. Maybe Beca just isn’t all that into sex in general.

And then the dreams started.

The first one Beca thought was a fluke—who doesn’t have a sex dream about your (admittedly very attractive) best friend once in their lifetime?

But they kept happening, night after night, leaving Beca tangled in her sheets, sweaty, breathless, and pulsing with need. 

She tried to ignore it, but after an hour of tossing and turning, trying to ignore the pounding between her legs and the image of Chloe in some sort of compromising position on the back of her eyelids, Beca snuck into the bathroom to take care of herself.

She’d cried quietly into her hands, feeling horribly guilty and ashamed. 

Sure, she wasn’t actually  _doing_ anything wrong, but Beca still felt like she was  violating both Chloe and Jesse’s trust.

Which is why neither of them can  _ever_ find out about this.

It’s really difficult, though, when Beca can’t have a normal conversation with Chloe without picturing her doing something dirty or have sex with her boyfriend without pretending that he’s Chloe.

It’s gotten to the point where the only way Beca can enjoy sex is by fantasizing about Chloe, by closing her eyes and pretending his fingers are hers, that his eyes are icy blue instead of chocolate brown.

She feels like a terrible person, but it makes sex  _so_  much more enjoyable—and maybe it’ll help rekindle the spark of their physical relationship. Maybe one day Beca will be able to just  _be_  with Jesse, without constantly wishing he were someone else.

Today, apparently, is not that day. Nor will that day probably ever come, because Beca just shot herself in the foot. No—she just shot herself in the face.

Because as her back arched and her orgasm ripped through her, Beca calls out, “Chloe!”

Jesse stops moving immediately, but Beca barely even notices until she comes down from her high.

It isn’t until she looks him in the eye and sees the hurt and confusion there that she’s realized what she’s done.

“Oh, my God,” Beca whispers in horror.

“What the fuck, Beca?” Jesse asks.

“I—” Beca doesn’t even know what to say. “I’m sorry,” she finally says.

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Jesse rolls off of her and starts gathering his clothes. 

“Jesse?” Beca asks after several moments of silence. 

Jesse sighs. “Are you cheating on me?” he asks. To Beca’s surprise, he doesn’t sound angry—he just sounds tired.

“No,” Beca says quickly, wrapping the sheet protectively around her bare chest. “Jesse, I swear I’m not. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Well, you don’t just scream someone else’s name during sex for no reason!” Jesse shouts, and Beca winces. “Sorry,” he says, deflating a bit.

“No, it’s fine,” Beca says, feeling even worse that he’d think  _he_ has to apologize for anything. “I… I don’t know what to say, Jesse.” She can feel her throat getting tight, a signal that she’s moments away from crying. God, she hates crying.

“Do you love her?” Jesse asks.

Beca is floored by the question. She obviously has a physical attraction to Chloe, but she never stopped to consider whether she had actual  _feelings_  for her.

Jesse seems to take her silence as a confirmation because he says, “I think we’re done here,” and leaves, the door slamming with finality behind him.

Beca just stares after him for a long time. She should feel bad, but all she can think is,  _Well, that’s one problem solved_.

She doesn’t feel any less guilty, though.

* * *

As it turns out, it’s impossible to keep a secret in this damn house, because Chloe shows up twenty minutes later. (Thankfully, Beca has gotten dressed again.)

“I heard you and Jesse broke up,” Chloe says, looking concerned.

“How did you…?” Beca looks around, confused, before figuring it’s just not not important right now. “Yeah, I think we did.”

“You think?” Chloe comes to sit next to Beca on the bed. Beca swallows uncomfortably, her brain replaying the various dreams she’s had of Chloe in this bed. 

“We had…” Beca doesn’t even know what to call it. “A fight.” She sighs. “I’m pretty sure we’re done.”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says quietly, placing a hand on Beca’s knee. “What happened?”

“Um…” Beca looks away, feeling her face heat. She has no idea how to answer that question. 

There’s a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” It sounds like Amy, which makes no sense—one, because this is her room, too, and two, because Amy  _never_ asks.

“Yes…?” Beca calls. When Amy comes in, she asks, “Why are you all of a sudden asking to come in?”

“I don’t particularly feel like seeing you two naked today,” Amy says nonchalantly, heading into the closet for something.

Beca blinks, unsure she’d heard correctly. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” Amy says, emerging from the closet with a jacket in hand. “We could hear you screaming Chloe’s name from downstairs.” She makes some sign with her fingers that Beca doesn’t understand.

Now Chloe looks baffled. “What are you talking about?”

Suddenly, everything clicks in Beca’s mind.  _Fuck_.

“Nothing,” Beca says, a little too loudly. “Nothing. Amy heard nothing.”

Amy chuckles. “Oh, it was something, all right.  _Chloe_ ,” she moans, throwing her head back. Beca thinks she’s about to be sick.

“I’m lost,” Chloe says, her expression one of such genuine confusion that Amy seems to believe her.

“Wait, you two  _weren’t_  doing it?” Amy looks at Beca’s terrified expression and seems to understand. “Oh, um, my bad. I must have heard wrong. Never mind!” She bolts out of the room.

Chloe is quiet for a moment, the air heavy between them. Beca worries Chloe will be able to hear her heart pounding in her chest, and she tucks her hands under her knees so Chloe won’t see how they’re shaking.

“Stop me if I’m wrong,” Chloe says softly, “but did you say my name while you were… with Jesse?”

Beca couldn’t speak even if she wanted to. The two people she never wanted to find out about this have figured it out within the span of an hour, and she can’t breathe. She manages to nod almost imperceptibly, figuring that she has literally nothing to lose by being honest.

Chloe’s reaction is instantaneous. “Oh my God, really?” she squeals, a grin splitting her face.

Beca can only stare.  _What is happening?_

“I’m so flattered,” Chloe continues.

At this Beca has to laugh, garbled and nervous but mostly relieved.  _Only Chloe Beale_ , she thinks. “You’re so weird,” she mutters, still not quite able to meet Chloe’s eyes.

“Like, I’m sorry that it broke you two up,” Chloe says, her face falling a little. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, well.” Beca rubs at the back of her neck.

“But now that you’re free,” Chloe purrs, and all of the hairs on Beca’s body immediately stand on end, “let me know if you ever want to take this”—she gestures to her body—”for a test drive.” She winks and kisses Beca on the cheek quickly before bouncing to her feet and sauntering out the door.

Beca sits there, openmouthed, before getting up to look out the window.

Nope, no sign of flying pigs.


	119. Chapter 119

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry!Chloe please can be whatever you want I just need angry Chloe like I need air also prompt: the 4th of July/fireworks if you want + another prompt where Beca has a peanut allergy and they go for ice cream and despite the fact that Chloe says No Peanuts, they put peanuts on Beca's ice cream and she loses it

“Um, I’ll have a small chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup with sprinkles, plea—”

“No peanuts,” Chloe cuts in, nudging Beca aside. “She’s allergic to peanuts.”

The girl behind the counter nods and turns away to scoop Beca’s order.

“Jesus Christ, Chlo,” Beca mutters, rolling her eyes. Chloe does this  _literally_ every time they go anywhere that serves food. “I was gonna get there.”

Chloe just shrugs unapologetically and shoves a spoonful of her own ice cream into her mouth. “Excuse me for not wanting you to die,” she mumbles around the food.

“I’m not going to  _die_ if a peanut touches my food,” Beca reminds her for the thousandth time, dropping her change into the counter girl’s hand as she accepts her ice cream. “Thanks.”

She has a bite halfway to her mouth when suddenly Chloe yells, “Beca,  _no_!” and knocks the cup out of her hand and to the ground.

“What the fu—”

“I  _told_ you that she’s allergic to peanuts!” Chloe yells at the girl, who looks thoroughly frightened. “Can you do one  _goddamn_ thing right?”

Beca stares, confused. Picking up her cup from the ground, she sees that there are, in fact, a couple of peanuts still sticking to the top. 

“She could have  _died_ , you moron!” Chloe continues, and Beca yanks her back.

“Calm down, Chlo,” Beca pleads, because the poor girl looks like she’s about to cry. “It’s fine,” she tells the girl. “It’s  _fine_ ,” she repeats emphatically to Chloe, who is breathing hard.

“I’m so, so, so sorry,” the girl says. “They must have gotten mixed in with the sprinkles or something. I’ll give you your money back,” she offers, already opening the register.

“No, it’s okay,” Beca says, moving to stand in front of Chloe, who looks like she’s about to go off again. “Sorry.” 

“ _You’re_ the one who should be sorry,” Chloe spits at the girl, and Beca literally drags her away by the arm.

“Chloe,” she scolds, “you can’t just  _yell_ at people like that! She’s gonna be traumatized.”

“She could have  _killed_ you,” Chloe says, eyes still blazing. 

“She could have made me break out in hives at best,” Beca counters. “Honestly, could you not have just politely informed her that there were peanuts on my ice cream?”

“No,” Chloe insists, dumping her ice cream into the trash and crossing her arms.

“What, are you going to boycott this place now?” Beca teases, gesturing to the trash can.

“Yes.”

Beca just sighs. Frankly, she doesn’t want to come back here with Chloe ever again, so she doesn’t argue. “Okay, let’s go home.”

After ten minutes of walking in silence Chloe says quietly, “I’m sorry for losing it.”

“It’s okay,” Beca tells her. “I kind of wish I had it on video.”

Chloe giggles. “She did look like she was gonna shit herself, didn’t she?”

“You’re terrible,” Beca says, but she can’t help but laugh, too.


	120. Chapter 120

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Beca are top rivals in a swimming competition where Chloe always gets 1st place. Beca gets jealous, and really annoyed when Chloe kept on complimenting her even though Beca got 2nd place. Beca thinks Chloe's just mocking her but when she confronted Chloe, she says she's actually flirting with Beca and that she likes her.

Beca Mitchell has always been the fastest swimmer in the tri-county area. She’s unbeatable.

At least, she was—until Chloe Beale came along and fucked everything up.

She beats Beca in every single style—including the backstroke, at which Beca had  _never_ lost before. 

Beca hates her.

She not jealous, though. Chloe is annoying; she always comes up to Beca after meets with a smile and a “nice race,” which Beca is  _sure_ is fake.

Ugh, even the  _thought_  of her irritates Beca. But she’s  _not_ jealous.

(Okay, maybe she is. Like, just a tiny bit.)

Beca hates losing, and the fact that she just lost— _again_ —to Chloe in her best style is infuriating. She rips off her goggles and cap as soon as she heaves herself out of the pool, not even bothering to look at her time on the clock.

She just wants to grab her stuff from the locker room and leave, but suddenly the last person she wants to see steps into her path.

“Nice race,” Chloe says, holding out her hand for Beca to shake.

Beca stares at her, hating every single thing about her appearance—the bright smile, the unsmudged mascara, the perfectly shaped bun atop her head, and (most of all) the little droplets of water that run down her toned biceps and thighs.

Beca just scoffs and goes to move around Chloe, ignoring the offered hand. “Save it, Beale.”

“What?” Chloe asks, her eyes wide and innocent. “You swam really well. You’re a very talented swimmer.”

Beca just rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

“Talented and beautiful,” Chloe continues. “I bet you’ve got people falling all over you.” And then she winks.

Beca’s mouth nearly falls open.  _This girl is unbelievable_ , she thinks. “Shut up,” she mutters, trying to shove past Chloe.

“What?” Chloe’s look of confusion seems so genuine she must have practiced it in the mirror. “Can’t I compliment you?”

“I don’t  _need_  your fake compliments,” Beca hisses.

“Fake?” Chloe laughs, and it just pisses Beca off even more. “Beca, has anyone ever flirted with you before?”

It takes Beca a moment to process her words. “Has anyone ever flirted with me before?” she repeats dumbly.

Chloe pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes for a second. “Hello, my name is Chloe and I think you’re hot,” she drawls, sticking her hand out again. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh,” Beca says, awkwardly shaking Chloe’s hand. “So you weren’t being sarcastic just then, right?” She’s starting to feel rather stupid.

“No,” Chloe huffs, then holds up a finger. “I’ll be right back.”

Beca watches as Chloe jogs the short distance to the stands, where her bag is sitting. She pulls out a pen and a notebook—Beca recognizes it as one she’s seen Chloe writing her times down in before—and scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Alright,” Chloe says when she’s returned, holding out the scrap of paper. “I am going to give you my phone number. You are going to wait three days so you don’t seem too desperate, and then you are going to call me.”

“Okay,” Beca says, looking down at the digits scrawled in purple pen, because she doesn’t really know what else to say.

“Great.” Chloe smiles at her before sauntering away in the direction of the locker room.

Beca stares after her, stunned. 

 _Maybe_ she doesn’t hate Chloe so much anymore.

She’ll have a better idea in three days.


	121. Chapter 121

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A combination of these four prompts from ff.net:
> 
> Could you do one where Chloe gets very jealous when she finds out someone has been flirt texting Beca (Beca doesn’t text back or cheat or anything) and Beca has to try and make it up to her?
> 
> Can you write one where Beca and Chloe get into a fight so Chloe makes Beca sleep in the couch but after an hour or so Beca comes back to their bedroom and they make up?
> 
> Beca and Chloe have a drunken night of kissing and more after making up after a fight.
> 
> Bechloe are having a fight about something trivial. Due to the heat of the moment, Chloe slaps Beca. Both of them got shocked for a second. Chloe panics after realizing what she did then tries to think of something to immediately remedy the situation… so she jumps Beca and ended up having sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

They’ve officially become  _that couple_  that sits in their apartment and drinks on a Thursday night.

Beca finds that she doesn’t mind so much, although she  _does_  wish that Chloe would stop making her sit through America’s Next Top Model marathons.

She also wishes that this guy would stop texting her.

(Never give your number to someone until after the first date. Because even if you don’t like him, he might be desperate enough to keep trying to flirt with you via text message. Beca knows this  _now_.)

She hasn’t answered any of them, obviously; she has Chloe. Beca figures if she ignores them long enough he’ll stop.

It’s not like they’re vulgar or anything, anyway—mostly just stuff like “hey beautiful” or cheesy pickup lines.

If she’s going to deal with this and ANTM, she needs more wine.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” she tells Chloe, heaving herself off of the couch.

“Grab me one, too?” Chloe asks, holding out her empty glass.

“Sure.”

Beca sets the glasses on the counter, pouring more wine into them before taking a swig straight from the bottle.

When she returns, she immediately senses something is amiss. Chloe is no longer looking at the television, her attention instead turned to something in her hand.

It’s Beca’s phone.

Chloe does  _not_  look happy.

Shit.

“Um, Chlo?” Beca asks cautiously, setting the glasses down on the coffee table.

“Don’t ‘Chlo’ me,” Chloe snaps, shoving the phone under Beca’s nose. “Who is Greg and why does he keep texting you?”

“No one,” Beca says; she means it to reassure Chloe, but it comes out sounding defensive and guilty. “I mean, I went on a date with him once, like, six months ago. Before we were dating,” she clarifies.

“Then why would he still be flirting with you?” Chloe asks, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t know,” Beca says, running a hand nervously through her hair. “I just ignore them. I haven’t answered any of them, Chloe, I swear.”

“Why wouldn’t you just block the number?” Chloe shoots back.

Beca pauses; she doesn’t have an answer to that. She considered blocking the number, but the idea made her feel vaguely guilty for some reason.

Chloe seems to take her silence as an expression of guilt and gets up from the couch. “You,” she says, pointing at Beca as she walks by, “can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Oh, come on, Chloe,” Beca says, following her down the hallway. “You’re being dramatic. It’s  _nothing_.”

Chloe’s only response is to throw a pillow and a spare blanket at her before slamming the bedroom door.

Beca just stares at it dumbly for a moment before turning and going back into the living room. She’s too tired and tipsy to try and reason with Chloe, and Chloe’s emotions tend to intensify after she’s been drinking.

Resignedly, Beca makes her bed on the couch and crawls under the blanket, trying to get comfortable. She rolls onto her left side, then her right, before finally settling on lying on her back staring up at the ceiling.

She closes her eyes and tries to will herself to sleep, but she can’t. She hates fighting with Chloe; it makes her feel sick. Plus, Beca can’t remember the last time she fell asleep without Chloe’s arms around her, and she can’t ignore the feeling of emptiness that wraps around her.

 _Why didn’t I just block the stupid number?_  she thinks to herself, angrily twisting the fabric of the blanket in her fists. Maybe—if she’s being totally honest with herself—she secretly liked the attention. Just a little bit.

Sighing, Beca kicks the blanket off of her and pads down the hall, knocking softly at the bedroom door.

“Chlo?” Beca calls. “Can we talk about this?”

There’s a beat of silence before the door cracks open, revealing a very annoyed-looking Chloe. “What is there to talk about?”

“I’m sorry about the texts,” Beca says. “But I  _promise_  that I love you and only you.”

“Oh, really?” Chloe drawls, crossing her arms. “Then why didn’t you block them?” Beca shrugs, not knowing what to say. “Yeah, okay.” She goes to shut the door again but Beca shoves her way in.

“I’m sorry,” Beca repeats.

“You know what, Beca?” Chloe says, her voice increasing in volume. “I don’t believe you!”

“But I didn’t answer any of the texts!” Beca insists. “I didn’t  _do_  anything.”

“That’s exactly it,” Chloe says. “You didn’t do anything. Like blocking his number. Why wouldn’t you block his number?”

“I don’t know,” Beca shouts. “Maybe I just like being complimented.” She throws her arms out. “What’s so wrong with tha—”

_Smack!_

Beca feels a sharp sting against her cheek and reels back, clutching her face.

Chloe just  _slapped_  her.

She looks at Chloe, whose eyes are wide, mouth open in horror. They both just stand there for a moment, staring at each other. Then Chloe crosses the space between them in two strides and wraps a hand around the back of Beca’s neck, pulling their lips together.

Beca flinches in surprise, too stunned to react at first. But Chloe just clings tighter, tugging Beca’s bottom lip between her own.

Beca can’t help but to kiss Chloe back; she’s always been helpless to respond to her touch. She whimpers when Chloe nips at her lip, then soothes the bite with her tongue.

Chloe’s hands wander down Beca’s body, tugging at her t-shirt and pulling it up over her head. She moves her lips across Beca’s cheek, kissing the reddened skin tenderly as she shoves at Beca’s shorts.

Beca thinks it unfair for her to be practically naked while Chloe is still fully clothed, so she ineffectively yanks at Chloe’s shirt until her girlfriend takes it off and dumps it on the floor. Much more satisfied with the exposed skin, Beca drags her nails bluntly down Chloe’s back, loving the way she hisses against her cheek.

Beca’s hands dip just under the waistband of Chloe’s pajama pants momentarily, prompting Chloe to quickly remove them.

“Eager, are we?” Beca asks with a laugh, and in lieu of an answer Chloe pushes her gently backwards until she plops down on the bed.

Chloe divests them of their remaining clothing and settles between Beca’s legs, kissing her way down Beca’s neck. She pauses to suck on Beca’s pulse point as her hands run teasingly up Beca’s sides, fingertips brushing the undersides of her breasts.

Beca shifts restlessly under Chloe’s touch, trying to slip a hand between them to touch Chloe, too.

“Ah ah ah,” Chloe says, batting her hand away. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one apologizing to you?” Beca asks breathlessly as Chloe’s rolls her nipples between her fingers.

Chloe stops for just a second to look up at Beca, who groans in protest. “I slapped you,” she says before reattaching her lips to Beca’s skin, nipping a path to her collarbones, dipping her tongue into the dip between them.

“If you’re really sorry you’ll just get on with it,” Beca grumbles.

Chloe smirks and continues down to take one of Beca’s nipples bluntly between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it until Beca’s back arches sharply.

“Fuck,” Beca gasps out as Chloe moves to the other breast, her thumb still stroking across her nipple lazily. “Chloe,” Beca urges, threading a hand in Chloe’s hair, trying to guide her head down, “you slapped me, remember? Be nice to me.”

Chloe rolls her eyes but complies, pausing only to bite at one of Beca’s hipbones before dipping her tongue into where Beca wants it most.

Beca cries out as Chloe licks up her length once before tracing tight circles against her clit. Beca’s vision goes slightly fuzzy and she’s breathing hard, unable to think of anything but the feeling of fire spreading across her skin.

Gently, Chloe slides a finger inside Beca, curling it as she works it in and out. Beca moans loudly, breath ragged, and she can feel herself getting close. She suspects Chloe can feel it, too, because she picks up her pace, adding a second finger.

“Chlo,” Beca groans, feeling every muscle in her body coiling tightly, ready to snap.

With one more swipe of Chloe’s tongue, Beca unravels, hands fisting tightly in the sheets as her eyes screw shut.

Chloe slows her motions gradually until Beca stops shuddering, and crawls back up to cradle her in her arms, Beca’s chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Do you forgive me?” Chloe asks quietly, linking their fingers together.

“Uh, yeah,” Beca says, chuckling. “You should slap me more often.”

Chloe just laughs and snuggles in closer.

Wrapped in Chloe’s arms, Beca falls asleep in minutes.


	122. Chapter 122

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping I could get a Bechloe thing with Chloe saying "aca-fucking-scuse me!?" Or maybe Beca. But mostly Chloe. And it hurts Beca. Why she needs to say it? Idk. Beca has angst about graduation and what's gonna happen with them (they're together), maybe she says "graduating would've been a lot easier if I hadn't left Jesse for you.

When Chloe failed Russian Lit the first time, Beca suspected that it was intentional. Chloe isn’t stupid, and she had been acing the class right up until the very end of the semester, when she didn’t turn in her final paper and totally bombed the final test.

But she didn’t say anything, because Chloe already seemed distraught enough over the fact that Aubrey was leaving.

The second time, everyone knew exactly what Chloe was doing, and by the third time she announced that she had failed— _again_ —it was blatantly obvious.

Still, Beca said nothing—she figured it’s Chloe’s life and none of her business. In fact, secretly—selfishly—Beca was glad Chloe was sticking around; she didn’t have to handle the Bellas all by herself, and she got to keep her best friend.

And then the Bellas fell apart, and Beca’s boyfriend became her ex and her best friend became her girlfriend.

A lot has happened in the last year.

Beca isn’t sure how to broach the subject of graduation with Chloe—she couldn’t even tell Chloe about her  _internship_ , for Christ’s sake. Chloe has made a couple of offhanded comments about leaving the fate of the Bellas solely in Emily’s hands next year, and Beca can tell that she’s tempted to stay.

It makes Beca very nervous.

Beca isn’t totally sure what she’s going to do after graduation; she has a job offer from Residual Heat, but her dream is still to go to LA.

She knows that if Chloe decides to stay for an eighth year at Barden, Beca will will take the job at Residual Heat. She won’t be able to stop herself. And it kind of pisses her off.

Everyone has been tiptoeing around Chloe, treating her like she’s made of glass; no one will even  _utter_  the g-word.

The day comes when Beca has to pick up her cap and gown, and she stands uncertainly outside of Chloe’s door. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have left this until the last minute.

Hesitantly, she cracks the door open. Chloe is sitting on her bed in front of her laptop, the reading glasses she denies needing perched on the end of her nose.

“Hey, what’s up?” Chloe asks, pulling off the glasses and dropping them next to her.

Beca doesn’t know how to start this conversation, but she knows that “So are you, like, gonna graduate?” probably isn’t it.

(She should really just keep her mouth shut.)

“What?” Chloe at once looks on edge.

“Well,” Beca says awkwardly, shutting the door behind her, “we have to get our cap and gowns today, so…” She trails off.

“I don’t know,” Chloe says after a long pause. She looks uncomfortable.

“You don’t know,” Beca repeats slowly. And, really—enough is enough. “ _How_  can you not know, Chloe? We are graduating in two weeks.”

“I know,” Chloe says defensively. “But this Russian Lit paper is really kicking my ass and—”

“Okay, enough with the bullshit,” Beca cuts in. “We  _know_  you’re failing on purpose. Just be upfront about it.”

“Aca-fucking-scuse me?” Chloe says, slamming the lid of her laptop shut.

“You can’t throw your life away over an a cappella group, Chloe,” Beca nearly shouts. “What, are you gonna stay at Barden until you’re 80?”

“I’m sorry that I care about the Bellas,” Chloe snaps, crossing her arms. “I know  _you_ wouldn’t get that.”

“Oh, my God,” Beca mutters, not sure whether she should laugh or cry. “I  _do_ care about the Bellas. I’m sorry that I care about my future, too.”

“And you think I don’t?” Chloe’s nearly yelling now.

“You’re considering an eighth year of college, Chloe!” Beca throws her hands up, frustrated. “I can’t even make decisions about  _my_ future because  _you_  won’t make a fucking decision!” She presses her fingers to her temples. “Graduating would’ve been a lot easier if I hadn’t left Jesse for you,” she mutters.

Chloe reels back like she’s been slapped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that I can’t decide whether I want to stay here and work at Residual Heat or do to LA—which, by the way, is my  _dream_ —because I don’t know if you’re going to be staying here for another year!” Beca shouts, breathing hard.

Chloe is silent for a moment. “You would give up LA for me?” she asks quietly.

“Yes,” Beca says, her voice hoarse from yelling. “I would. I hate that I would, but I would.”

“I…” Chloe looks away. “Beca, you can’t give up on your dreams for me.”

“I can’t be happy without you, Chlo,” Beca whispers. It’s the first time she’s said it out loud, and it terrifies her. “I can leave LA, but I can’t leave you.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Beca’s eyes snap to Chloe’s. “What?”

“I’ll graduate,” Chloe says, nodding. “I’ll turn in this paper, and I’ll graduate.”

“Really?” Beca watches as Chloe climbs off of her bed and comes to stand in front of her.

“Really,” Chloe says, taking Beca’s hands in her own. “And I’ll come to LA with you.”

“But—”

Chloe cuts her off by pressing a soft kiss to Beca’s lips. “My decision is final.”

Beca’s eyes prick with tears, a million words bubbling up inside of her—like  _seriously_ and  _are you sure_ and  _you can’t give up what you want for me_  and  _I just want you to be happy_ and  _I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else_.

Instead what she says is, “Okay.”


	123. Chapter 123

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the “Remember the Time” + Beca cheats on Chloe drabble: Years later they see each other again and they realize that they still love one another even when they have dated other people and decide to try to give themselves another chance.

Beca doesn’t see Chloe again for three years.

In that time, Beca has moved up the ranks at Residual Heat, has moved to LA and back again, and has had two spectacularly failed relationships.

She’ll get her shit together someday— _someday_ , however, is slow coming.

And then one day Beca runs into Chloe at the grocery store.

Literally runs into her. With her cart.

“Sorry,” Beca says, at first not realizing whom she’s just knocked into.

Chloe freezes at the sound of Beca’s voice, eyes wide when they meet Beca’s.

And Beca can’t help it—she starts to laugh.

What are the chances of running into your ex in the tiny corner grocery store in Nowhere, Georgia? It’s such a cliché, and it would only happen to her.

Chloe, to her credit, starts to laugh as well. “Beca,” she says breathlessly once they’ve calmed down. The sound of Chloe speaking her name hits Beca in the stomach, sinking like a lead weight. “I thought you went to LA.”

“I did,” Beca says, running her hand through her hair just so she’ll have something to do with it. “I was doing some scouting for my record label. But I’m back now.”

“Oh,” is all Chloe says.

They just look at each other for a moment. It’s very weird seeing the person who once was her entire life completely removed from it, but Beca takes comfort in the familiarity of Chloe’s smile and the way she twists her rings around her fingers.

“So,” Beca says, just to fill the silence, “are you seeing anyone?” It’s not a very appropriate conversation-starter ( _especially_  for someone in her situation), but she can’t help but ask; suddenly, she’s dying to know.

Chloe’s brows furrow a little at the question but she answers, “No, not at the moment.”

Beca just nods, feeling oddly relieved. She’d thought she was over Chloe, that she had moved on—but seeing her standing before her in the same sweatshirt Beca spent six years picking up off of their bedroom floor reminds her that she very much is not, in fact, over Chloe Beale.

“You?”

Beca is momentarily confused, but then realizes what Chloe is referring to. “Uh, no. Not anymore,” she says, twirling a lock of hair tightly around a finger.

“Oh,” Chloe repeats, and Beca wants to laugh again because she’s standing in the middle of a grocery store talking about her love life with her ex. “How are you?” Chloe asks, sounding almost uncertain.

“I'm…” Beca pauses, considering. “Fine. I’m fine. Just working a lot. You know.” She shrugs one shoulder. “You?”

“Same,” Chloe says with a small smile. “Getting by.” Then, “I miss you.” She says it quietly, almost like she’s hoping Beca won’t hear it.

Beca doesn’t even hesitate to reply, “I miss you, too.”

Chloe looks a little surprised, like she hadn’t expected Beca to answer, much less in the affirmative. “Maybe,” she suggests cautiously, “we can get coffee sometime.” Beca’s eyebrows arch. “As friends,” Chloe clarifies quickly. “As a starting point.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees, trying not to sound as eager as she feels. Having Chloe thousands of miles away, it was easy to pretend that Beca didn’t crave her contact; it’s much more difficult to ignore the urge to brush her hands over Chloe’s face or run her fingers through Chloe’s hair when she’s standing right there.

Even more so, Beca has missed Chloe’s company. She misses the friend that Chloe was before and during their relationship. It would be nice to have that back.

And they can go from there.

Beca leaves the store with Chloe’s new phone number, a date for the coming Friday, and only one bag of groceries.

She couldn’t remember what she had come to buy in the first place.


	124. Chapter 124

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca and Chloe deal with loss of a child, either before or after birth. They have a huge fight before the healing can start?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character death

It happened so fast.

One day, Emily was complaining of abdominal pain; seven months later, she was gone.

And their world completely fell apart.

How are you supposed to keep living when your six-year-old is six feet under?

Chloe has just been drifting around their house for weeks; Beca often finds her sitting on the floor of Emily’s room, staring absently at the wall.

They haven’t been able to bring themselves to touch anything in the room. It just sits there, unoccupied, like a shrine to the future they’ll never have.

Beca took a couple weeks off from work—more so because she knew that it was expected of her than anything else.

When she returns, Beca throws herself into her work, spending longer hours than necessary holed up in her little office at the studio. She just can’t stand to be in her house anymore. Everything reminds her of Emily—the condolence cards littering their kitchen table; the pen marks on the threshold of the bathroom door where they would measure Emily with every passing year; the small stain on the living room rug where Emily knocked over her juice.

Chloe still hasn’t been able to return to work. Beca can’t imagine how difficult it must be to be surrounded by kids all day, a constant reminder of what they’ve lost.

Beca isn’t quite sure what to do—there are no protocols for losing your child to cancer—but she thinks that maybe going through Emily’s things would be a good start.

Now she just has to figure out how to tell Chloe.

She waits until after dinner, when Chloe is curled up on the couch reading a book.

“Hey, Chlo,” Beca says cautiously, sitting down in the armchair across from her. “Can we talk about something?”

Chloe looks up; her eyes are heavy and tired, and she looks like she may have spent a good portion of the day crying. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“It’s about Emily’s room,” Beca says quietly, like she’s trying not to startle Chloe.

Chloe’s eyes immediately harden and narrow. “What about it?”

“Do you think that…” Beca takes a breath and steels herself. “Do you think that maybe it’s time to sort through her things? Maybe donate some of them?”

“You can’t possibly be serious,” Chloe tells her. Her voice is low and controlled, the way it always is when she wants to yell but is holding it in. “Beca, we just buried—” Her voice cracks, and she clears her throat. “We just buried her a month ago.”

“I know,” Beca says, trying to keep her voice gentle. “It’s hard for me, too. But maybe it’ll be good for us. For you.”

“No,” Chloe tells her emphatically, turning back to her book.

“Chloe, come on,” Beca pleads, watching a muscle in Chloe’s jaw twitch. “We can’t leave her room like that forever. At some point, we have to start letting go.”

“Well,  _excuse_  me that I’m not ready to let go of my  _child_ ,” Chloe snaps, slamming the book shut. “It’s not so easy for me to just dump her stuff and forget about her.”

Beca reels back like she’s been slapped. “You think I want to  _forget_  about Emily? You think I could forget?” She’s yelling now; she promised herself she wouldn’t yell.

“You’re barely home,” Chloe accuses. “You work all the time. You don’t talk about her. You hardly even cried at the funeral, Beca.”

“You think I don’t care about my daughter?” Beca shouts, her voice shaking. “I didn’t cry because I was trying to be strong for you. I work because I can’t deal with being reminded of her all the time. I can’t watch you walk around like a zombie. It hurts too much, Chloe.”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Chloe says bitterly. “You think getting rid of her stuff will solve anything?”

“No.” Beca tries to fight the tears that are rapidly forming behind her eyes. “But it’s a start. Keeping Emily’s things isn’t ever going to bring her back.” Suddenly, she’s exhausted. “I just want you to be able to be happy again. Someday.”

Chloe deflates, a tear slipping down her cheek. Beca sees the fight visibly escape her. “Me, too.”

“I just… I can’t lose you, too,” Beca whispers brokenly.

Chloe gets up off the couch to kneel in front of Beca, taking her hands. “You won’t,” Chloe promises, eyes shining with emotion. “We’ll figure this out.”

Something inside Beca breaks, and suddenly she’s sobbing—ugly, heaving, sobs that wrack her whole body.

Chloe tugs Beca down to sit beside her on the floor, wrapping her arms around her body. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says, cradling Beca’s face in her hand. “We’ll figure this out.”

Beca nods, unable to get words out.

It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.


	125. Chapter 125

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca and Chloe are enemies really hate each other in high school or college but can’t seem to stay away until one day, they just make out or sleep together?

Beca hates Chloe Beale.

She hates everything about her—her peppy personality, the way she taps her pen against her desk in class, the sound of her laugh, how she doodles in the margins of her notebook whenever Beca is giving a presentation.

Mostly she hates Chloe because Chloe hates her.

Beca doesn’t remember exactly how it started; she just knows that ever since she started high school, she and Chloe have been at odds.

Jesse likes to frequently remind her that there’s a thin line between love and hate.

Beca likes to tell him exactly where he can stick that line.

Even just the sight of Chloe pisses her off.

Like tonight—Chloe is dressed in a blue sundress, her hair swept up in a bun. She’s way overdressed for a high school party in some kid’s basement, in Beca’s opinion, and it’s certainly inappropriate attire for mid-November.

Chloe is absolutely ridiculous.

Beca wouldn’t even be here if Jesse hadn’t insisted on coming; now he’s nowhere to be found, and Beca is bored out of her mind and not nearly drunk enough to deal with this.

She wanders upstairs in search of a bathroom and nearly runs into Chloe, who apparently has the same idea.

“Beca,” Chloe says curtly.

Beca just makes an  _after you_  gesture and Chloe—purposely, Beca’s willing to bet—knocks into her on her way in.

 _Jesus Christ, how long does it take for her to pee?_  Beca wonders once several minutes have gone by. She’s prepared to knock when Chloe finally reappears.

“Took you long enough,” Beca can’t help but say.

Chloe stares at her for a moment. “Do you always comment on other people’s bathroom habits?”

“Only when they inconvenience me,” Beca grumbles.

“Do you have a problem?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes. Beca has a fleeting thought that she looks rather hot when she’s incensed, but she files that away to think about later.

“Uh, yeah,” Beca drawls. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re the one who told me to go in first,” Chloe points out. “You’re so infuriating.”

“At least I don’t spend an hour in the bathroom,” Beca shoots back, and then cringes internally. She’ll have to spend some time thinking up new comebacks.

“Oh, shut up,” Chloe huffs.

“Make me,” Beca says before she can stop herself.

Suddenly, she’s knocked backward against the wall. “What the fu—”

The rest of her sentence is muffled by Chloe’s lips, which are inexplicably attached to Beca’s. Beca freezes for a moment, stunned, but then she instinctually starts to kiss Chloe back.

If asked about it later, she’ll say that Chloe’s just a really good kisser.

Beca doesn’t yet have an explanation for why she allows Chloe to push her into the bathroom, lock the door, and do some rather dirty things to her.

There is also apparently a very thin line between hate and alcohol-infused sex.


	126. Chapter 126

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do something where Beca gets rushed to A&E (emergency room) and needs to get stitches but she’s really scared and Chloe (happens to be an intern) passes by and distracts her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of blood, needles, injury, etc.

It’s a rather slow night, which is why when Chloe spots a small woman with heavy eyeliner and a blood-soaked bandage around her hand who looks like she’s five seconds away from knocking out the nurse in front of her, she stops to see what’s going on.

“No, no, no, no,” the girl is saying, curled up in the bed like she’s trying to get away from the nurse.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Chloe asks, knocking lightly on the door.

The nurse gives her a look that clearly says  _thank God you’re here_. “This young lady needs stitches, but she doesn’t want them,” she says, trying to sound pleasant, but there’s an edge of exasperation in her voice.

“Why don’t I take a look?” Choe says gently, dragging a stool to the girl’s bedside. “I’m Dr. Beale.”

Hesitantly, the girl holds her hand out to Chloe. “I’m Beca.”

“I can take it from here,” Chloe tells the nurse with a smile, who gratefully scurries out of the room. “Can you tell me what happened, Beca?”

“I was chopping vegetables and the knife slipped,” Beca says, watching Chloe carefully unwrap the bandage.

It’s certainly not the worst cut Chloe’s ever seen—it’s a pretty clean gash around her thumb—but Beca really does need stitches. She tells her so, but Beca shakes her head.

“Can’t you just, like, wrap it up and wait awhile?” she asks, eyes wide and scared. “See if it heals on its own?”

“Well, it’s ultimately up to you,” Chloe tells her, “but I would  _strongly_ recommend getting stitches. It’s not going to heal properly if you don’t. It could get infected. You don’t need many—maybe four or five.”

Beca seems to think about that for a moment, her eyes flicking from her hand to Chloe and back again. “Will it hurt?” she asks finally.

“Nope,” Chloe replies. “I’ll numb the area with a local anesthetic so you won’t feel a thing, just some pressure.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees finally.

“Great,” Chloe says with a smile. “I’ll get a suture kit and we’ll be ready to go.”

When she comes back into the room with the supplies, Beca takes one look at them and swallows hard. She almost looks like she’s trying not to cry.

“It’s okay,” Chloe assures her, placing the tray down on the little bedside table and tugging Beca’s hand towards her. It’s shaking slightly. “I’m gonna inject the anesthetic now, alright?”

Beca nods, looking away as Chloe carefully positions the needle, flinching slightly when she punctures the skin.

“Good job,” Chloe says once she’s done. “Okay, I’m gonna start the sutures.”

Beca screws her eyes shut, tagging deep, ragged breaths as Chloe sets to work. Chloe can feel how tense her muscles are, and she wishes she could hold Beca’s hand. Unfortunately, she kind of needs both of hers at the moment, so she does the next best thing.

“I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose,” she sings softly. “Fire away, fire away.” She sees Beca open one eye and then quickly close it again, and Chloe feels her relax slightly.

“Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away. You shoot me down, but I won’t fall. I am titanium.” She hears Beca let out a long breath as she completes the final sutures. “You shoot me down, but I won’t fall, I am titanium.”

Triumphantly, Chloe returns the clamps to the tray. “Done!”

“Really?” Beca asks, her eyes still closed.

“Really,” Chloe confirms, starting to bandage Beca’s hand back up. “You’re a rockstar.”

Beca chuckles lightly, opening her eyes slowly. “Thank you,” she says quietly.

“No problem.” Chloe scribbles something down on a prescription pad. “This is a prescription for a topical antibiotic. You can wash the wound gently with soap and water after twenty-four hours. You’ll have to come back in about a week to have the stitches removed.”

“Okay,” Beca says, cradling her injured hand in her other one.

Chloe stands, surprised to find herself reluctant to leave. “Have a good night, Beca.”

“You too,” Beca says as Chloe disappears out the door.


	127. Chapter 127

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe could you do one where it’s Emily’s birthday and Chloe’s makes Beca help make her a cake but they get in a fight with ingredients?

Beca is absolutely useless in the kitchen.

But Chloe doesn’t have the time to make this damn cake by herself, so Beca is. Going. To. Help.

She’d whined about it, of course—sometimes it’s harder to get Beca to help out around the house than it is to wrangle Emily into doing it.

In fact, if it weren’t Emily’s own birthday cake, Chloe would have her helping out.

(Seriously. Chloe would take an eight-year-old over Beca.)

“Why do I have to sift the flour?” Beca asks, looking at the recipe. “What’s the difference?”

Chloe isn’t actually completely sure, but she still tells Beca, “Do it anyway.”

“And why can’t I just put everything into one big bowl? Why do I need two?” Beca picks up the flour sifter like she’s never seen anything like it in her life.

“Beca,” Chloe says exasperatedly, shutting off the electric mixer in her hand, “all I’m asking you to do is put some things in bowls. Enough with the complaining.”

Beca doesn’t say anything, instead very pointedly and exaggeratedly cracking an egg and dropping it in the bowl.

“You’re ridiculous,” Chloe mutters, but she’s fighting a smile. She married an actual ten-year-old.

Suddenly, she feels something bounce off her back, and then hears a splat behind her. She turns around, seeing a broken egg lying at her feet. “Bec—” she starts to scold, but she’s cut off by a cloud of something white hitting her face.

Sputtering, Chloe brushes the dust off of her face enough to open her eyes. Beca is standing in front of her with a box of confectioner’s sugar with a devilish smirk.

Chloe huffs in disbelief—Beca will try  _anything_. She married an idiot, but it’s impossible to resist her. So she grabs the can of cocoa powder to defend herself, turning it upside-down over Beca’s head.

Beca coughs, shaking her head back and forth while shoving blindly at Chloe. She flings what’s left of the sugar at her, hitting Chloe squarely in the chest.

Chloe’s so distracted by the clump of powdered sugar sinking down her shirt that she doesn’t notice Beca grabbing another egg until it’s too late.

Chloe squeals at the feeling of the cool liquid running down the side of her face, wiping it away with her hand before it can get in her eyes.

“Beca Mitchell,” she says, lunging at her wife, who is laughing hysterically, “I am going to—”

“What are you doing?”

Beca and Chloe freeze at the sound of their daughter’s voice. Emily is standing at the edge of the kitchen, looking at them with confusion.

They must look ridiculous—two adults having a food fight instead of making a birthday cake for their daughter. “We’re baking,” Chloe says. She can feel the egg yolk sliding down her neck.

Emily still looks like she isn’t sure what’s going on, but Beca runs over and plops a handful of flour on her head.

“Hey!” Emily shouts, chasing after her mom.

Chloe quickly hands Emily the cocoa powder and urges, “Go get mom!”

“You can’t use my own child against me!” Beca protests as Emily throws a handful at her.

Chloe stands back and watches as Emily pummels Beca with flour and baking powder, laughing hysterically.

 _I married an idiot_ , she thinks fondly, wishing she had a camera to capture this moment.

The only issue is how to clean all this crap up.

Beca sure as hell isn’t going to do it.


	128. Chapter 128

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fic based on One Direction’s “Strong.”

_People always trying to escape it_  
Move on to stop their heart breaking  
But there’s nothing I’m running from  
You make me strong

* * *

Beca’s not sure exactly when it happened, but she started needing Chloe.

It’s spectacularly terrifying, but Beca can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include falling asleep wrapped in Chloe’s arms.

The Bellas like to rib her, joking that Chloe has Beca wrapped around her little finger. Beca denies it externally, but internally, she knows it’s true. All Chloe has to do is bat her eyelashes and Beca jumps to attention.

* * *

 _I’m sorry if I say, “I need you.”_  
But I don’t care  
I’m not scared of love  
‘Cause when I’m not with you I’m weaker  
Is that so wrong?  
Is it so wrong?

* * *

It used to scare her, but Beca has embraced it.

She’s a better person with Chloe at her side; she’s braver, stronger, and more forgiving.

Beca never anticipated falling in love with her best friend—in fact, if she had been told that when she first came to Barden, she would have run screaming in the other direction.

Now, however, “I love you” rolls off her tongue with ease; it’s second nature to drop into Chloe’s bed after a long day and snuggle into her side.

Beca wants a future with Chloe. She wants everything with Chloe. She wants things she never thought she’d want with anyone—marriage, kids, the white picket fence.

She just has to figure out a way to articulate all that.

* * *

 _So, baby, hold on to my heart, oh, oh_  
Need you to keep me from falling apart  
I’ll always hold on  
'Cause you make me strong


	129. Chapter 129

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe have 5 kids; 4 girls and the youngest is a boy. Beca, Chloe, and their 4 daughters all happen to have their periods at the same time, and their son has to deal with all their mood swings and hormones and whatnot.

Living in a house with two moms and four teenage girls is an absolute nightmare.

Don’t get him wrong—Justin loves his family. They’re just… a bit much.

Justin doesn’t know exactly how this whole  _period thing_ works, because when he tried to Google it, he saw some pictures he  _really_ didn’t want to see.

He just knows that once a month, all hell breaks loose.

At any given moment, one of his moms can be crying on the couch; the other in a screaming match with Emily; and Harmony, Melody, and Bella shut themselves into their rooms and yell at anyone who dares disturb them.

Justin tries to keep to himself and stay out of everybody’s way, but he always manages to somehow set someone off.

“Justin!” Beca shouts up the stairs. She doesn’t sound pleased.

“Yeah, mom?” Justin asks, skidding into the kitchen, his socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

“You left the peanut butter jar open again!” Beca tells him, her voice bordering on yelling. “You  _know_ that Harmony is allergic!”

“Sorry,” Justin mumbles, shuffling around Beca to screw the lid back on the jar.

“What were you thinking?” Beca continues, slamming a hand on the counter top. 

Justin jumps at the noise, cowering back against the cabinet.

Beca’s eyes immediately soften. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s not a big deal.” Her voice cracks a little on the end, and Justin nods and scoots out of the kitchen before his mom can start crying.

He nearly smacks into Melody when he turns the corner. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” she yells at him before stalking into the living room.

Justin heads back upstairs, figuring he’ll just play video games until everything settles, but he can’t find one of his controllers. Emily is pretty much the only other person in the house who uses them, so he pokes his head into her room.

“Hey—”

“God, don’t you  _knock_?” Emily yells when she sees him, although—as far as Justin can tell—she’s just sitting on her bed with her laptop.

“Sorry,” Justin says, “but have you seen the Xbox controller?”

“No,” Emily tells him, her tone irritated. “Why would I take your controller?”

“I’m not saying you took it,” Justin says exasperatedly. “I just wanted to know if you’ve seen it.”

“No,” Emily repeats, pinning him with a hard look. “Now leave me alone.”

“Okay, jeez.” Justin shuts the door behind him and pads down the hall to his moms’ room. Maybe Chloe’s seen it.

When he enters the room, he sees Chloe curled up on the bed, surrounded by tissues, watching something on the television.

“Uh, are you okay?” Justin asks cautiously.

Chloe looks up, startled. “What?” She wipes at her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetie. It’s just a sad documentary.”

Justin moves around the bed to glance at the screen. It’s something about penguins on Animal Planet. 

“Did you need something?” Chloe asks.

“Oh, um,” Justin says, not wanting to unwittingly set his mom off. “Have you seen my Xbox controller?”

Chloe blows her nose and says after a moment, “Harmony might have borrowed it. She got some new cooking game the other day.”

 _Wonderful_ , Justin thinks. Harmony is a monster when she’s cranky. “Okay, thanks.”

He’s debating whether or not to actually try and ask Harmony for the controller when he hears a  _thump_ downstairs.

“Harmony Beale-Mitchell!” he hears Beca shout, and Justin quickly backs away from the stairs.

It’s probably best to leave them alone.


	130. Chapter 130

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could I have a follow up to blind Beca?

Chloe wasn’t quite sure how to picture Beca with kids.

Admittedly, she was a little nervous when they made the decision to start IVF, but Beca wanted kids and Chloe wanted kids, so she figured they’d make do.

In retrospect, Chloe needn’t have worried.

Beca can’t do some of the typical stuff one does with their kids, like play catch or drive them to school, but she’s still absolutely amazing.

Beca gets up in the middle of the night to feed Emily when Chloe is exhausted; she’s learned to tell when Emily is done feeding by listening to the changes in her breathing. She sings Emily back to sleep when she’s done before creeping quietly back into their room and slipping under the covers.

Beca teaches Emily how to play the piano. (By the way—Beca can play the piano. Really well.) She brings Emily to the studio so she can get singing lessons from one of her coworkers. 

She sits in the front row at Emily’s dance recitals, listening to the music and the sounds of stomping feet with her eyes closed.

After much trial and error, Beca learns how to braid hair, and her deft fingers quickly surpass Chloe’s skills. (She’s only a little annoyed about it.)

Beca goes to parent-teacher conferences, and doctor’s appointments, and soccer games, and performances, and sits through boring small-talk with the parents of Emily’s classmates during playdates. 

The only thing Chloe has to do regularly for Beca is check Emily’s outfits—the kid will try to get away with wearing the same shirt four days in a row or going out with completely mismatched socks.

Beca, it turns out, is ten times the mom any seeing person is.

So when Beca crawls into bed one night and proposes trying for another one, well—

Chloe agrees without hesitation.


	131. Chapter 131

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could I have a follow up to blind Beca?

Chloe wasn’t quite sure how to picture Beca with kids.

Admittedly, she was a little nervous when they made the decision to start IVF, but Beca wanted kids and Chloe wanted kids, so she figured they’d make do.

In retrospect, Chloe needn’t have worried.

Beca can’t do some of the typical stuff one does with their kids, like play catch or drive them to school, but she’s still absolutely amazing.

Beca gets up in the middle of the night to feed Emily when Chloe is exhausted; she’s learned to tell when Emily is done feeding by listening to the changes in her breathing. She sings Emily back to sleep when she’s done before creeping quietly back into their room and slipping under the covers.

Beca teaches Emily how to play the piano. (By the way—Beca can play the piano. Really well.) She brings Emily to the studio so she can get singing lessons from one of her coworkers. 

She sits in the front row at Emily’s dance recitals, listening to the music and the sounds of stomping feet with her eyes closed.

After much trial and error, Beca learns how to braid hair, and her deft fingers quickly surpass Chloe’s skills. (She’s only a little annoyed about it.)

Beca goes to parent-teacher conferences, and doctor’s appointments, and soccer games, and performances, and sits through boring small-talk with the parents of Emily’s classmates during playdates. 

The only thing Chloe has to do regularly for Beca is check Emily’s outfits—the kid will try to get away with wearing the same shirt four days in a row or going out with completely mismatched socks.

Beca, it turns out, is ten times the mom any seeing person is.

So when Beca crawls into bed one night and proposes trying for another one, well—

Chloe agrees without hesitation.


	132. Chapter 132

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Emily is Bechloe’s lovechild and she’s graduating from high school and Beca gets a lot more emotional than both Chloe and Emily thought she would be and it somewhat embarrassed Emily?

Emily is  _so_  over high school.

She loves her friends, obviously, and she’ll miss them when she goes to Barden, but as soon as everyone tosses their caps in the air, Emily makes a beeline for the lobby.

It’s always difficult to find her moms in a crowd, but luckily she’s taller than both of them and spots them after a few minutes.

Her gaze actually passes over them a few times, but Emily doesn’t recognize them because Beca is sobbing nearly hysterically.

Emily rushes over, certain that something is terribly wrong. Beca only ever cries at the end of movies where puppies die—so Emily has only ever seen her cry twice, because Beca banned  _Marley & Me_ from their house.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asks, panicked, when she reaches them. “Did someone die?” She gasps. “Did grandma die?”

“No, no, sweetie,” Chloe says quickly. “Beca’s just a little…” She glances at her wife with a mildly bemused expression. “Emotional.”

“I’m fine,” Beca says weakly, wiping at her eyes and nose. Her mascara is smudged more so than usual, making her look like a very distraught raccoon.

Emily glances around, seeing that people are starting to stare. “Mom, everything is fine,” she says through gritted teeth.

“I know,” Beca says, sniffling. “I just can’t believe my baby  _graduated_.” Several more tears slip down her cheeks. “You’re so old. You’re, like, thirty.”

“I’m eighteen,” Emily reminds her, but Beca doesn’t seem to be listening.

“Soon you’ll be graduating college, and then getting married,” Beca says, accepting the tissue Chloe hands her, “and then having kids. Oh, God.” Beca looks at Chloe with a horrified expression. “We’re going to be grandparents.”

“Not for a long time,” Chloe assures her, looking like she’s trying not to smile. She takes out another tissue and carefully wipes away the makeup under Beca’s eyes.

Emily shifts on her feet, hoping that no one is paying attention to her mess of a mother.

“You just look so beautiful, honey,” Beca says. Emily isn’t sure how much she believes her, because it’s hot as fuck and her hair is probably a curly mess, and she feels sticky and gross.

“Um, thanks,” Emily replies. Suddenly, Beca pulls her into a hug.

Beca generally reserves hugs for birthdays or good report cards or if Emily is crying; it’s very strange to be hugging Beca when she’s the one crying. She shoots a questioning glance at Chloe, who just shrugs, bemused.

“Shall we go?” Chloe asks when they part, probably more for Emily’s benefit than Beca’s. She wraps an arm around Beca and squeezes tightly for a moment.

“Yes!” Emily says, a little too enthusiastically. Beca, luckily, doesn’t seem to notice.

* * *

Later that night, Beca pokes her head into Emily’s room. “Em?”

Emily looks up from her notebook. “Yeah?”

“Sorry if I, um, embarrassed you earlier,” Beca says sheepishly, looking at some point on the wall past Emily’s head.

“You didn’t,” Emily tells her quickly, although  _yeah_ , she kind of did.

“I’m proud of you,” Beca says, making eye contact. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” Emily replies.

“And I know what I said, but don’t be making me a grandmother anytime soon,” Beca adds, pointing at her. “Good night.”

Emily laughs. “I won’t. Good night, mom.”


	133. Chapter 133

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe collapses at Bellas rehearsal because she didn’t eat for quite some time because she’s kinda insecure about her body. Beca takes care of her and convinces her that she has a perfect body. And somehow they tell each other that they’re in love with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of negative body image and disordered eating.

Chloe hasn’t seemed herself lately.

She’s sluggish, and lethargic, and has been noticeably lagging on the choreography.

Beca just figures she’s stressed, or maybe coming down with something.

And then Chloe collapses at rehearsal.

She crumples to the ground right in the middle of their set, and Beca rushes over, kneeling next to her.

“I’m yelling timber,” Amy sings, and Beca mimes slicing her neck, signaling her to shut up.

This doesn’t seem like the time for jokes.

“Chlo?” Beca asks urgently. Chloe’s eyes are half closed and she’s breathing hard. Her face is paler than Beca’s ever seen it. “Em, can you grab her water bottle?”

Emily nods and grabs it off of the top of the piano and hands it to Beca.

“I’m fine,” Chloe says, but her voice is faint. Weakly, she pushes herself into a sitting position.

“Here,” Beca tells her, nudging Chloe’s legs until they’re bent in front of her, “put your head between your knees.”

“I’m fine,” Chloe insists, but she follows Beca’s instruction, resting her forehead against her knees.

Beca rubs soothing circles on Chloe’s back. Looking up, she sees that everyone is staring at her and Chloe. “I think we’re done for the day,” Beca says. The girls don’t move, and Beca makes a shooing gesture with her hands.

“You want me to stay?” Cynthia Rose asks, hesitating as she walks by.

Chloe shakes her head almost imperceptibly. Her breathing is starting to even out and her color is a little better.

“Um, I think we’ll be okay,” Beca replies. “Thanks, though.”

The Bellas file out of the auditorium, leaving Beca and Chloe in silence.

“You should drink something,” Beca says after a minute, keeping her hand on Chloe’s shoulder as she sits up and lifts her water bottle to her lips with a shaking hand. “When was the last time you ate? I think I have a granola bar in my bag.” Chloe looks at Beca guiltily, and it catches her attention. “Chlo, when did you last eat?”

“Um,” Chloe says, stalling, “maybe Tuesday night?”

Beca’s eyebrows shoot up, and she’s certain she’s heard incorrectly. “It’s Thursday.”

“I know.”

Beca is confused. “Why haven’t you eaten in two days?” She fishes in her bag for the granola bar and unwraps it, putting it in Chloe’s hand.

Chloe shrugs a little, not quite meeting Beca’s eyes. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Beca brushes a lock of hair out of Chloe’s eyes. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“I tried putting on a pair of jeans I haven’t worn in awhile, and they didn’t fit,” Chloe admits, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“And you thought that starving yourself would…?” Beca trails off, not wanting to make Chloe feel stupid or embarrassed.

Chloe shrugs again. “I’m not like you,” she says. “I can’t eat whatever I want and stay stick-thin.” She looks away ruefully.

“Chloe,” Beca says, gently bringing a hand to Chloe’s cheek to make her look Beca, “you are  _beautiful_.” Chloe scoffs. “Seriously, you’re, like, perfect. Millions of girls would kill to look like you.”

Chloe just shakes her head sadly. “Anyone who would rather look like me than you needs their head checked.”

“I love you, Chlo,” Beca says softly, “why don’t you love yourself?”

“Did you know that I’ve never had anyone tell me that they love me?” Chloe asks, ignoring Beca’s question.

“I love you,” Beca repeats, frowning.

“No, I mean, like,  _in_  love with me,” Chloe clarifies, her tone bitter.

Beca bites her lip, debating internally. Chloe needs to hear it more than Beca is scared of being rejected, so she takes a breath and says, “I am.”  
“What?” Chloe’s brows furrow.

“I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

Beca huffs a little. “I’m in lo—”

“I mean, I heard you,” Chloe says, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I just—I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say that?”

Now it’s Beca’s turn to say, “What?”

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Beca’s stomach erupts in butterflies. “Oh,” she says, and she knows there’s probably a stupid smile on her face.

Chloe actually smiles now, and leans in to peck Beca’s cheek. “Why don’t we celebrate over pizza?”

Beca nods eagerly, helping Chloe to her feet.

It’s the best idea she’s heard all day.


	134. Chapter 134

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Chloe think that Beca does not love her as much as she does, and Chloe is kinda pissed of about that, but finally Beca says how much she loves her, and as a surprise she sing "I don't want to miss a thing" to Chloe on a Bellas rehearsal?

Beca doesn’t do any of the cutesy things other couples do.

Beca doesn’t randomly surprise her with flowers like Cynthia Rose’s girlfriend does.

Beca doesn’t get Chloe personalized packages of M&Ms like Bumper does for Fat Amy.

Beca doesn’t by Chloe sex toys like Stacie does for literally every guy she’s ever met.

It’s frustrating—not so much because Chloe needs constant material gifts, but because half the time, Chloe isn’t even sure if Beca  _likes_ her, let alone loves her.

Normally, people who have been dating for several months say “I love you.”

Some days they don’t even talk; Beca comes home and heads straight up to her room, not to be seen again until she drags herself downstairs in the morning for class.

Beca’s been doing it more than usual lately—but Amy, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose have been up there with her, too, speaking in hushed tones and pretending they’re just discussing the set list whenever Chloe comes in the room.

When Chloe asks what Beca’s up to, Beca looks away and says cagily, “Nothing.”

Beca is up to something, and Chloe isn’t quite sure what.

* * *

Chloe’s just about to open her mouth to start practice when Beca cuts her off.

“Chlo, can you take a seat?”

Chloe looks at Beca, confused. “What? Why?”

“I… have something for you,” Beca tells her, and Stacie nearly drags Chloe by the hand to a chair in the front row. 

It’s weird sitting in the chairs looking up at the board again after so many years standing in front of it, but she watches as Beca stands there nervously, twisting her fingers together. Cynthia Rose plugs her phone into the speakers and gives Beca a thumbs-up.

Music begins to play, and Chloe just stares at Beca, unsure what to expect.

Okay, she wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t for Beca to start singing—no,  _serenading_  her.

 _“I could stay awake just to hear you breathing_  
Watch you smile while you are sleeping  
While you’re far away and dreaming  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender  
I could stay lost in this moment forever  
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.”

Chloe glances around, certain she’s hallucinating. But everyone is just watching with smiles on their faces as Beca belts it out, Amy, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose joining in for backup on the chorus.

 _“Don’t wanna close my eyes_  
I don’t wanna fall asleep  
‘Cause I’d miss you, baby  
And I don’t wanna miss a thing  
'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream would never do  
I’d still miss you, baby  
And I don’t wanna miss a thing.”

Chloe knows her mouth is hanging slightly open, but she just can _not_  believe what she’s seeing. 

 _This is what Beca’s been up to_ , Chloe realizes suddenly. She blinks rapidly against the tears she feels pricking her eyes, overcome with emotion at the thought of Beca so carefully planning this.

Chloe is speechless when the song ends, but it seems like Beca has something to say, anyway.

“Chloe, I love you,” she says, smiling shyly, cheeks tinted red. “I just… wanted to say that. Through, um, song. I guess.” She rubs at the back of her neck nervously. “Say something?”

“I…” Chloe clears her throat. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” She wipes at her watering eyes.

Beca looks mildly panicked. “Please tell me those are good tears.”

Chloe laughs and stands up to wrap Beca into a tight hug. “Yes,” she says, “very good.” She pulls back to look Beca in the eyes as she says, “I love you too.”

The Bellas burst into cheers and applause as Chloe very dramatically dips Beca as she presses their lips together.

Beca squeals in surprise, and probably going to be annoyed about it later, but—

The red-faced, sheepish little smile Chloe gets once she’s righted herself is totally worth it.


	135. Chapter 135

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe gives Beca a really sappy present and she loves it but refuses to admit it because she doesn’t want to ruin her “badass” reputation?

Beca is really difficult to shop for.

She has all of the fancy music equipment she needs. She only wears the same four shirts over and over again, so buying her clothing is just a waste of money. She doesn’t like chocolate— _seriously_. She must be the only person on the planet who doesn’t.

So when Beca’s birthday rolls around, Chloe is completely out of ideas.

Chloe isn’t sure who she can ask to help brainstorm; she’s pretty sure anything suggested by Stacie or Flo will end in some type of injury. Anything suggested by Amy would probably be illegal. Cynthia Rose is about as materialistic as a rock. And Jessica and Ashley never seem to have any original ideas.

Chloe decides to consult the Internet.

One thing that Beca is constantly buying is coffee—she also drinks tea, but she makes Chloe buy it for her because tea is “for girls.”

(Chloe hasn’t yet figured out the Beca-logic behind that one.)

So Chloe special-orders a travel mug with the lyrics to “Titanium” painted across it in a fancy script, and crochets a cozy for it that looks like the Bella scarf. She buys a massive amount of tea, throws everything into a basket, sticks a bow on it, and puts it in her closet until Beca’s birthday.

Because of their crazy schedules, Chloe doesn’t actually get to see Beca until that evening after she gets home from her internship.

“Happy birthday!” Chloe yells as she enters the room, holding the basket out like an offering. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to y—”

“Please don’t sing,” Beca says, although she’s smiling as she accepts the basket.

“Happy birthday dear Becaaaaa,” Chloe continues, because it’s sacrilege not to sing to someone on their birthday. “Happy birthday to you.”

“Beautiful,” Beca drawls, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t have to get my anything.”

“You say that every year,” Chloe says, flopping down on Beca’s bed.

“And still you get me gifts every year.” Beca raises an eyebrow.

“You get me gifts,” Chloe reminds her. “I’m gonna get you gifts.”

“Okay, whatever,” Beca concedes, turning her interest to the contents of the basket.

“It’s a mug with the lyrics to ‘Titanium’ on it,” Chloe narrates unnecessarily as Beca picks through the basket. “And I crocheted that.” She points to the cozy. “And then I just bought a shit-ton of tea.”

Beca just stares at the mug in her hands, turning it over and over.

“Do you like it?” Chloe asks cautiously after several silent moments.

Beca turns away, blinking rapidly. She clears her throat, saying, “Yeah, thanks,” as she surreptitiously wipes a thumb under her eyes. “It’s, uh, nice.” She coughs awkwardly.

Chloe leans over to try and see Beca’s face. “Beca, are you… crying?”

“What? No,” Beca denies, nose twitching a bit as she tries to resist sniffling.

“Oh my God, you are,” Chloe says gleefully, and she  _probably_  shouldn’t be this happy about it, but she’s quite proud of herself.

“I’m not,” Beca insists, putting the mug back into the basket. “It’s just tea.”

“You’re welcome,” Chloe says sarcastically. “It’s not like I spent money on it or anything.”

“Shut up, Beale,” Beca mumbles.

Chloe just grins in response; she finds the entire spectacle terribly endearing and adorable, although she’d never actually  _tell_  Beca that.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she says with a wink, standing up. “Happy birthday.” She pecks Beca on the cheek as she heads out of the room.

“I wasn’t crying!” Beca shouts after her.

“Of course you weren’t,” Chloe tells her, pausing in the doorway just long enough to watch Beca’s face turn red.


	136. Chapter 136

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow up to the drabble where Beca fantasizes about Chloe when she's with Jesse:
> 
> How about a follow up where Beca doesn’t take Chloe up on her offer anytime soon and Chloe’s disappointed and decides to do something about it?

Beca’s never been great with people.

She doesn’t know what to do with her hands when people hug her, or how to comfort crying friends, or how to accept a compliment without any kind of sarcastic remark.

So “my best friend whom I’m  _kind of_  maybe in love with told me to hit her up if I wanna bang” is not a situation she knows how to handle.

On the one hand, hell yeah she wants to sleep with Chloe. Anyone with eyes and a libido would want to get on that.

It’s the best friend thing that makes it tricky, because Beca can live without taking Chloe to bed, but she  _can’t_  live without Chloe as her friend.

Also, trying to initiate intimacy with someone like Chloe is kind of intimidating.

So Beca pushes it out of her mind and decides to let Chloe come to her—if, that is, she wants to.

Chloe isn’t helping with this at all, though. She keeps doing little things—brushing against Beca “accidentally” as she walks by, looking at Beca’s lips instead of her eyes when they talk, wearing rudely low-cut shirts—that drive Beca crazy.

Chloe doesn’t bring it up again, which makes Beca unsure if she was joking—or maybe drunk. Or high. Or possessed.

And then one night Chloe comes into Beca’s room, shuts the door, and says, “Why haven’t we had sex yet?”

Beca reels back in her chair with surprise, mouth opening and closing for a moment. “You have to buy me dinner first,” she says. (The sarcastic route is usually her safest option.)

Chloe looks at her for a moment. “You called my name when you were fucking Jesse"—Beca winces, because Chloe only gets this blunt when she’s mad—"and I  _offered_  to sleep with you, and now you’re pretending it didn’t happen. What gives?” She almost sounds… disappointed.

“Um,” Beca says, running a hand through her hair, “I wasn’t totally sure if you were serious?” It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” Chloe asks, like people expressing sexual interest in Beca is a commonplace thing. (It isn’t, by the way.) “I like you. You like me. We’re both hot. So…” She waves her hand vaguely.

“Oh,” Beca says, blinking. Well, that takes care of one issue. “And I didn’t want to risk fucking up our friendship.” She looks somewhere around Chloe’s feet as she says this, almost embarrassed at how cliché it sounds.

Chloe’s eyes soften. “Beca, you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll always be your friend, no matter what.”

It’s sweet, and reassuring, but the words lose a bit of their effect when Chloe strips off her shirt right in the middle of speaking.

“What are you doing?” Beca asks as Chloe pulls off her jeans. “What is happening?”

“You are going to stop talking,” Chloe tells her, straddling her lap in the desk chair. “And start making out with me.”

“And then?” Beca says breathlessly as Chloe starts kissing down her neck.

Chloe pulls back and winks. “We’ll see.”


	137. Chapter 137

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Beca and Chloe fall out because Chloe feels like Beca is drifting away or something?

Chloe remembers when she used to be Beca’s priority.

She used to be the first person Beca texted in the morning and the last at night. Beca used to drop everything whenever Chloe asked to hang out. Beca used to text Chloe photos of random things with the words, “Just made me think of you.”

And then Beca started dating Jesse, and Chloe stopped being that person.

She’s jealous—she’s so,  _so_  jealous—and hurt, and feels betrayed, even though she doesn’t really have a right to any of those feelings.

Beca still talks to her, of course, and hangs out with her; but Chloe’s slipped to number two, and it rips her apart inside.

Maybe if Chloe had just told Beca how she felt. Maybe if she’d kissed Beca, just to see her response. Maybe if she weren’t so stupid,  _she_  could be in Jesse’s position right now.

Then again, maybe Beca just doesn’t feel that way about her.

Chloe wants Beca to be happy, and as much as it pains her to admit it, Jesse makes Beca happy.

Chloe really wishes she could be the one to make Beca smile that way, though.

She keeps her mouth shut and listens to Beca talk about Jesse even though it kills her. She helps Beca get ready for dates and lets Beca complain about how Jesse talks through movies.

 _I would never make you watch a movie_ , Chloe thinks to herself bitterly.

Gradually, they begin to spend less and less time together. The texting is less frequent. They don’t FaceTime when Beca goes to her dad’s for the weekend.

Whether it’s because it hurts so much to see Beca these days or because Beca’s spending more and more time with Jesse, Chloe isn’t sure.

The other Bellas seem to sense the shift; it’s no surprise, really, seeing as Beca and Chloe have always been attached at the hip.

Amy asks if there’s been “trouble in paradise.” Cynthia Rose offers to “talk,” looking at Chloe in a way that tells her that she knows. Emily just looks generally worried every time Beca and Chloe stand next to each other.

Their conversation becomes more cordial and more about necessities and favors— _I’m gonna be fifteen minutes late to practice, can you start it without me?_  and  _What do you think about adding Beyoncé to the set list?_

Chloe misses Beca. She misses her best friend so much it hurts to breathe sometimes.

But it’s less painful than seeing how happy she is without Chloe.


	138. Chapter 138

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca proposes to Chloe. You pick how long they’ve been together, where she does it, who’s there, etc. Something super mushy, lovey dovey, brings-tears-to-my-eyes.

Beca isn’t sentimental.

She throws away cards the day after her birthday. She doesn’t still have any of her baby clothes. She donated the itchy sweater her grandmother made her the day after she died.

She’s also not very good with feelings.

Which makes this whole  _proposal thing_  rather difficult.

So she consults the Bellas.

**Stacie**

“Pop the question right after giving her the best orgasm of her life,” Stacie advises over coffee. “She can’t say no, right?”

Beca blushes and looks away. She’s still not very good at talking about sex stuff. “I want it to be a bit more special than that.”

Stacie shakes her head. “Trust me, it won’t get any more special than this.” She taps something into her phone. “Here, let me show you this website that sells—”

“No thanks,” Beca says quickly, holding her hand up.

She’ll ask someone else.

**Cynthia Rose**

“You should hire one of those planes that writes stuff in the sky,” Cynthia Rose suggests on the phone. “It could say ‘will you marry me, Chloe?’ It would be epic.”

“That sounds expensive,” Beca says uncertainly. “And also risky. What if it rains or something?”

“YOLO,” is all Cynthia Rose has to say in response.

Beca decides to get a third opinion.

**Amy**

_What you have to do is get three monkeys. Can you get monkeys in the US? If not, I can FedEx you a koala._

Beca closes the email.

She doesn’t even want to know.

**Aubrey**

Beca hangs up the phone after an hour-long lecture about how to “treat Chloe right,” which included no less than eleven threats on her life.

She has a headache.

**Emily**

“You should write a song!” Emily squeals as they sit across from each other at the island in the kitchen of the Bella house. Beca and Chloe sometimes pop over there to help out with the new army of Bellas Legacy has managed to round up over the last three years.

“I can’t write songs, remember?” Beca asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll help you,” Emily says excitedly, practically bouncing in her seat.

“Okay,” Beca agrees, and Emily scampers off to get her notebook.

It’s not like anyone has any better ideas.

* * *

Beca waits anxiously in the living room of her apartment for Chloe to come home. Emily is perched on the armrest of the couch with her guitar, drumming her nails against it. The sound grounds Beca, distracting her from the enormity of what she’s about to do.

Finally, the door clicks open, and Beca can hear Chloe toss her bag and keys on the kitchen table. Beca checks her pocket for the millionth time, just to be absolutely sure that she has the ring.

“Beca, I’m ho—oh,” Chloe stops in surprise in the threshold of the room. “Hi, Emily.” She gives Beca a look that clearly says  _why is she here?_

“Chlo, can you have a seat?” Beca asks, hoping her voice doesn’t shake, because her heart is  _hammering_  in her chest. “I, uh, have something for you?”

Chloe smiles at her quizzically but does as she’s told, plopping down in the armchair.

Beca looks at Emily and gives her a little nod, cuing her to begin playing.

 _Now or never_ , Beca thinks to herself. She takes a breath and starts to sing.

_“When tomorrow comes  
_ _I’ll be on my own  
_ _Feeling frightened of  
_ _The things that I don’t know  
_ _When tomorrow comes  
_ _Tomorrow comes  
_ _Tomorrow comes.”_

Chloe is still smiling, but she looks mildly confused.

_“And though the road is long  
_ _I look up to the sky  
_ _And in the dark I found lost hope that I won’t fly  
_ _And I sing along, I sing along, and I sing along.”_

Beca takes another peek at Chloe. She’s getting into the song now, head bobbing along to the beat.

Emily chimes in for backup as Beca gets to the chorus.

_“I got all I need when I got you and I  
_ _I look around me, and see a sweet life  
_ _I’m stuck in the dark but you’re my flashlight  
_ _You’re getting me, getting me through the night  
_ _Kick start my heart when you shine it in my eyes  
_ _Can’t lie, it’s a sweet life  
_ _Stuck in the dark but you’re my flashlight  
_ _You’re getting me, getting me through the night  
_ _'Cause you’re my flashlight  
_ _You’re my flashlight, you’re my flashlight.”_

By the time Beca gets to the end of the song, Chloe has picked up on some of the lyrics and harmonizes with them.

Chloe bursts into applause when they finish. “I loved it! Did you write that?”

Beca nods jerkily. “Well, Emily did.”

“We wrote it for you,” Emily adds.

“For me?” Chloe’s grin widens. “That’s so sweet.”

Beca wrings her hands nervously, willing herself not to stop over her words. “I wanted to do something special for you because I love you. Like, more than anyone. Ever. And you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

She takes another breath. “You complete me, Chloe. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Beca admits. “You love me even though I’m kind of an ass most of the time. And you’re beautiful, and smart, and funny, and—” The words get stuck, and Beca has to clear her throat. “You’re the most incredible person in the world and I’m so lucky to have you.”

It’s here that Beca moves in front of Chloe, getting down on one knee, pulling out the ring with shaking hands. She hears Chloe’s breath hitch.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Chlo,” Beca says, looking up at Chloe, who has a hand over her mouth and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Will you marry me?”

Chloe nods vigorously. “Yes!” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “Abso-aca-lutely.”

Beca inhales sharply—there had still been a small part of her that didn’t think Chloe would say yes. She fumbles with the ring but manages to get it onto Chloe’s finger, staring down at it with wonder.

“We’re getting married,” Beca says, mostly to herself.

“We’re getting married,” Chloe confirms, tugging at Beca’s hand until Beca is straddling Chloe’s lap, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss.

“Yay!” Emily shouts behind them, clapping her hands.

Beca jumps. She’d forgotten Emily was there.

“Legacy,” Beca calls between kisses, Chloe’s hands already wandering under her shirt, “out.”

“Right, sorry!” Emily shouts as she leaves, slamming the door shut behind her.

Chloe wastes no time in stripping Beca of her shirt. “I love you, my fiancée,” Chloe says, working next on Beca’s jeans.

“I like the sound of that,” Beca says, and she can’t keep the stupid smile off of her face.

She’s getting married to Chloe Beale.


	139. Chapter 139

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fat Amy and stacie imitate Bechloe, and everyone else but them knows what's going on. Pre-Bechloe that ends in Bechloe?

Beca and Chloe are so obviously into each other that it’s almost painful to watch.

And the fact that they’re still pretending that they’re not is annoying.

There’s been a running bet amongst the Bellas for three years on when Beca and Chloe would finally confess their love for each other—although, at this point, everyone has lost, because nobody predicted it would take this long.

Seriously—they’re so obvious that Legacy even thought that they  _were_ dating.

Beca and Chloe are always doing little things—unnecessarily brushing against each other, being very  _hands-on_ with the choreography, letting their gazes linger on each other’s lips. (Beca is particularly known for staring at Chloe’s ass when her back is turned.)

It started out as a joke.

Stacie and Amy noticed Beca quite conspicuously watching Chloe’s ass as Chloe was bent over, demonstrating the choreography. So Stacie copies Chloe’s movements, shimmying her hips dramatically, as Amy very pointedly stares at her backside.

Cynthia Rose and Flo catch on quickly, snickering as Amy pretends to fan herself.

“What’s so funny?” Beca asks, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Nothing, cap,” Cynthia Rose says, clapping a hand over her mouth as soon as Beca looks away to contain her laughter.

They spend practice learning a new routine; Chloe drifts around the room helping the Bellas with the choreography. Per usual, she spends a particularly long amount of time with Beca, placing her hands all over her body to “help” her.

“Amy?” Stacie asks, bending over and practically shoving her ass into Amy’s front. “Is this how it goes? Maybe you can show me.”

“Oh, yeah,” Amy says, holding Stacie’s hips, “it goes just like that.”

Chloe gives them a weird look as she walks by, but says nothing.

“Amy, can you grab me a bottle of water?” Stacie asks after their fifth run-through. “I’m so  _thirsty_.” She winks for added effect.

“I’m right on top of that, Stace,” Amy says; Stacie smacks her on the butt as she walks by.

“Yeah, guys, take ten,” Chloe tells them. “You’re looking good.”

The girls fall into the folding chairs, breathing hard. Chloe sits so close to Beca that she’s practically in her lap, 

“You look tense,” Stacie says when Amy returns with the bottle. “Do you need a back rub?” 

Amy opens her mouth to reply, but she’s cut off my Emily. “Hey, didn’t Chloe say that to Beca on the retreat?”

“ _Legacy_ ,” Amy hisses, making a throat-slicing motion.

“What about me?” Beca asks, looking over at them. 

“Nothing,” Stacie says quickly, but she’s having trouble not laughing.

“No, she did,” Emily insists. “I remember because Chloe was right next to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Chloe cuts in, confused. 

Emily gasps. “I think they’re making fun of you.”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Cynthia Rose says, kicking Emily sharply in the shin.

“Ow!”

“Wait,” Beca says, eyes narrowing as something clicks in her mind. “Is that what you’ve been doing all practice? Making fun of me and Chloe?”

Stacie can’t hold it in any longer; she bursts out laughing. It’s contagious, and soon Amy and Cynthia Rose join in.

“Man, you’re as observant as a kangaroo with no eyes,” Amy says once she’s calmed down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beca demands.

“It means you’re an idiot if you can’t see that Little Red Riding Hood over there is in love with you,” Amy says, and, okay, maybe she hadn’t meant to say it quite like that, but, really—enough is enough. It’s been nearly four years.

Beca feels Chloe freeze against her, and her eyes dart between Amy and Chloe and back again. “She’s not—I’m—that’s not—Chloe isn’t—” she stutters, looking back at Chloe. “That’s not true, right?”

Chloe averts her gaze and doesn’t say anything. 

“Chloe?” Beca asks quietly, and Stacie can’t help but notice the way Beca’s gaze flicks down to Chloe’s lips..

Chloe hates lying and she’s terrible at it. She’s especially bad at trying to cover up her feelings, so it’s written all over her face when she says, “No?”

“Chloe,” Beca repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe whispers in lieu of an actual answer. Her eyes are wide and frightened, like she’s waiting for Beca to yell at her.

“Don’t be,” Beca says gently. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she wraps a hand around the back of Chloe’s neck and kisses her.

There’s a moment of shocked silence before the Bellas erupt in cheers and applause. Beca holds up her middle finger to them but continues to kiss Chloe like her life depends on it. 

“I love you, too,” Beca says against Chloe’s lips when they part.

“Pay up, bitches!” Cynthia Rose shouts.

Beca ignores the resounding groans in favor of kissing Chloe again.


	140. Chapter 140

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you maybe do an angsty turns fluffy one where Chloe is emotionally broken and Beca has to kind of force her way past the walls Chloe has put up?

Beca really shouldn’t have let this go on for so long.

The first time Chloe failed Russian Lit, it was easy to pretend that it was just a difficult class.

The second time, it was pretty obvious what was going on.

And then Beca let it happen a third time.

Beca isn’t Chloe’s keeper; she doesn’t need to tell Chloe how to live her life. It’s not even really her place.

But it still makes her feel like a shitty friend—and also terribly selfish, because Beca would be lying if she said that there wasn’t a part of her that had hoped Chloe would fail again so she could keep her best friend around a little longer.

And Chloe seemed happy—even if she was flushing her financial security down the toilet with each passing semester—so who was Beca to interfere?

Now, though, Chloe’s a mess.

She spends a huge amount of time shut in her room, and she cries at the drop of a hat. Half of all of her conversations end in some sort of emotionally charged rant about Das Sound Machine, and Beca can’t go an hour without hearing about Worlds at least four times.

The Bellas—Beca included—are almost afraid to talk about graduation or future plans around Chloe, because even the smallest things set her off.

Beca doesn’t really know how to handle it; whenever she asks if Chloe’s okay, all she gets is an, “I’m fine.” None of the Bellas really know what to do, so they all just stand idly by and watch Chloe self-destruct.

It’s really concerning, and it makes Beca sad that Chloe is sad.

Beca is terrified of what will happen if they don’t win the Worlds—but then again, maybe if the Bellas are dissolved Chloe will finally move on.

Beca decides that she  _will_  get Chloe to talk to her, whether Chloe wants to or not.

Her opportunity comes when Chloe goes off on Emily for having to miss practice due to a doctor’s appointment. Chloe yells for three straight minutes before storming up to her room and slamming the door.

Emily looks like she might start crying, but that’s not Beca’s concern right now; she plods up the stairs and knocks gently on Chloe’s door before pushing it open.

“Chlo? Can we talk?” Beca asks.

Chloe, who’s sitting on her bed with her head in her hands, looks up. “About what?”

“Are you okay?” Beca says, because she doesn’t think that  _um, about the fact that you just screamed at Emily over nothing_  will go over very well.

“I’m fine,” Chloe says curtly.

“Are you sure?” Beca sits down next to Chloe on the bed. “Because you don’t seem fine.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chloe gives Beca a sharp look.

“I’ve just noticed that you’ve been really… stressed,” Beca says, catching herself before she says crazy, “since the whole Kennedy Center thing.”

“Of course I’ve been stressed,” Chloe says, looking almost offended. “Everything I’ve ever worked for will be over if we don’t win this competition.”

“But there are lots of other things you’ve accomplished,” Beca points out. “Like winning three ICCA national titles.”

Chloe snorts derisively, seemingly ignoring Beca. “And to top it all off, I’ve spent seven years in college with nothing to show for it.”

“What about, um, a degree?” Beca asks carefully.

Chloe stares at her for a moment. “Are you asking me if I’m going to abandon the Bellas?”

“No,” Beca says slowly, “I’m asking you if you’re going to graduate.”

“Just because you’re okay with letting the Bellas crash and burn and then walking away doesn’t mean I am,” Chloe snaps, turning away.

Beca resists the urge to smack her head against the wall. “Chlo, that’s not what I meant and you know it. But you have to leave college sometime, and I know you know that.”

“Why don’t you just leave, Beca?” Chloe says, sounding tired. “Leave like everyone else.”

“I’m not—” Beca takes a deep breath and counts to ten. “I’m not  _leaving_  you. I’ll always be here for you even if I’m not here here.”

Chloe just shrugs and flops down against her pillows. She looks away, but doesn’t tell Beca to leave again, so Beca lies down next to her.

They stare at the ceiling in silence for awhile until Chloe whispers, “I’m scared.”

Beca turns to look at her. “Of what?”

“This has been my life for seven years,” Chloe says. “What if I’m not good at anything else?”

“Chlo,” Beca says, bringing her hand to Chloe’s cheek to turn her head, “look at me.” Chloe’s eyes are wide and scared. “You’re good at everything you set your mind to. You don’t have to worry.” Chloe scoffs. “No, seriously,” Beca insists. “You’re the most talented person I know.”

“Thanks,” Chloe says quietly. She brings her hand up to cover Beca’s on her cheek.

“And I’ll always be right behind you if you need me,” Beca adds, blushing a little. She’s never been good at the sappy heart-to-heart stuff. “Okay?”

Chloe smiles softly, and Beca thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she’s seen in months.

“Okay.”


	141. Chapter 141

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca sings to Chloe "Baby blue eyes - A Rocket To The Moon

Chloe loves when Beca sings.

More specifically, she loves it when Beca sings to  _her_ —and only her.

Sometimes when she gets back from a long, stressful day, Beca will lie next to her on the bed, stroking her hair and singing quietly.

Beca would probably slit her throat if she ever told anyone, but it’s amazingly sweet.

It’s one of those days—the kind where Chloe has had to sit through an insanely boring lecture followed by her math class, which she hates. The campus store was out of gummy bears and someone took her favorite study spot in the library.

Chloe doesn’t even have to ask; as soon as Beca gets home, she flops down next to Chloe, absently tracing patterns on the palm of Chloe’s hand.

 _“My eyes are no good, blind without her,_  
The way she moves, I never doubt her.  
When she talks, she somehow creeps into my dreams.  
She’s a doll, a catch, a winner  
I’m in love and no beginner;  
Could ever grasp or understand just what she means.”

Chloe closes her eyes and listens to the sweet sound of Beca’s voice. She can actually feel the stress and irritation seeping out of her.

 _“Baby, baby blue eyes,_  
Stay with me by my side;  
‘Til the mornin’, through the night.  
Well baby,  
Stand here, holdin’ my sides,  
Close your baby blue eyes;  
Every moment feels right.  
And I may feel like a fool,  
But I’m the only one dancin’ with you.“

Chloe sinks further into Beca’s embrace, nuzzling into her neck. She can feel the vibrations of Beca’s voice against her skin. Chloe focuses on the feeling of Beca’s hand on her back, rubbing large, slow circles that make Chloe’s eyelids feel heavy. 

She yawns, sinking further into the pillow. Beca’s voice never fails to make Chloe feel relaxed.

“I love you,” Chloe whispers as she closes her eyes, an arm draped across Beca’s midsection.

“Love you too,” is the last thing Chloe hears before she falls asleep.


	142. Chapter 142

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sacie and Aubrey end up babysitting toddler aca-child and someone thinks she's theirs. Staubrey endgame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Staubrey but I'm putting it here anyway

Aubrey doesn’t really “do” kids.

They’re cute from a distance, but most of them are noisy, and messy, and obnoxious, and annoying.

But Chloe is her best friend, so she agreed to watch Emily when their usual babysitter bailed.

Just to be safe, Aubrey calls Stacie in for backup.

Surprisingly, Stacie stayed close after graduating from Barden, getting her Masters and taking a job teaching middle school math.

Aubrey figures Stacie will know how to handle children. Also, it might be a  _tiny_ excuse to hangout with her.

She’s always had a bit of an attraction to Stacie—the long legs, the confidence she exudes, her intelligence. Aubrey’s never been great at expressing her feelings (sans the whole stress-vomiting thing), and she  _hates_ feeling like she’s being annoying or clingy, so she’s always looking for a cover to spend time with Stacie.

Plus, Aubrey really has no idea what to do with a three-year-old.

It’s a little late in the day to go out to the park, but Stacie suggests taking little Emily out for ice cream. Aubrey thinks that’s an appropriate idea, and there’s a little place not too far from Beca and Chloe’s house.

“What would you like?” Aubrey asks Emily while they wait in line.

Emily blinks up at her from her seat in the stroller. “Ice cweam,” she says.

 _Well, duh_. “What  _kind_ of ice cream?”

“Ice cweam,” Emily repeats.

“Emmy,” Stacie cuts in, crouching down next to the stroller. “Do you want chocolate or vanilla?”

Emily thinks for a moment. “Vanilla.”

“You got it,” Stacie tells her, standing back up.

“Thank you,” Aubrey says, looking back down at Emily, who’s patting the head of the stuffed penguin she carries with her everywhere.

Stacie just smiles and steps up to the counter when the people in front of them walk away with their ice cream. “One kid-sized cup of vanilla soft serve,” she says, glancing at the menu, “and a small chocolate chip cookie dough in a cone.” She turns to look at Aubrey. “Bree?”

Aubrey is momentarily distracted by the way her nickname sounds rolling off of Stacie’s tongue. “Um, I’ll take a berry smoothie, please.”

They take their ice cream and sit down at a picnic table. Stacie helps Emily get the food more into her mouth and less onto her shirt as Aubrey watches, transfixed. She doesn’t really want children, but she could see having them with Stacie.

“Oh, what a precious child!” someone coos. Aubrey looks up to see an older woman looking at Emily with a smile on her face. “Hello,” she says to Emily, who looks mildly freaked out. “You all make such an adorable family.”

Aubrey’s stomach flips. “Oh, we’re not—”

“You’re so good with her,” the woman continues, placing a hand momentarily on Stacie’s shoulder. 

Stacie just smiles at her and says, “Thanks,” and the woman walks away.

Stacie turns to Aubrey. “When are we having another child?” 

“Um.” Aubrey  _knows_ Stacie is joking, but suddenly she really,  _really_ wishes it weren’t. “I’m not—you’re—”

“Relax, Posen,” Stacie says with a laugh, wiping Emily’s chin with a napkin. “You haven’t even taken me on a date yet.”

“Do you want me to?” Aubrey asks quietly. She’s not sure where this courage is coming from—maybe it’s because she can see a whole future with Stacie, and it’s scarier to imagine a life without her than it is to make a move.

Stacie eyes her for a moment. “Are you asking me out?”

Aubrey takes a breath and says, “Yes.”

There’s a beat of torturous silence before Stacie grins. “Okay then.”

Aubrey lets out a relieved laugh. “Aca-awesome.”

“Aca-awesome,” Emily mimics, laughing too. “Aca-awesome.”

Aubrey groans. “Beca is gonna kill us for teaching her that.”

“Oh, no,” Stacie says, pointing her spoon at Aubrey. “That’s on you.”

Aubrey shrugs.

She can live with that.


	143. Chapter 143

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Beca and the other Bellas are relaxing in a café. Chloe confesses her feelings to Beca then whispers something that makes Beca horny. They end up in the cafe toilet. (They don’t come out for two hours.)

Somehow, Thursday afternoon post-practice Starbucks trips have become a thing.

It’s Chloe’s fault, really—she has an obsession with the tea at Starbucks, and she’s always dragging Beca there. Hence why she’s limited it to Thursdays.

Gradually, the rest of the Bellas started to come with them.

And now it’s a thing.

The ten of them crowd around the little café tables; Chloe almost always ends up half in Beca’s lap. It makes it rather difficult to hold a conversation with someone when Chloe’s skin is burning flush against Beca’s.

Chloe has long since figured out how Beca feels about her (according to Amy, everyone has long since figured it out), and with the way she’s been turning up the flirting, Beca thinks Chloe likes her, too.

The only issue is that Chloe uses this to her advantage, trying to make Beca flustered at every opportunity—trailing her fingers up Beca’s arm, whispering low in her ear, brushing her leg against Beca’s.

It’s distracting, and frustrating, and totally unfair, but Beca’s not complaining.

She just has to hold out until Chloe does something about it.

Chloe is being particularly obnoxious today, with her low-cut workout top and short shorts. She keeps putting her hand on Beca’s knee, and Beca gets an up-close-and-personal view of her cleavage when Chloe leans over her to hand something to Cynthia Rose.

“Chloe,” Beca grits out, because she can’t have Chloe’s boobs in her face and act like a functional human being.

“What?” Chloe asks innocently.

“You almost poked my eye out with those things,” Beca grumbles, gesturing to Chloe’s chest.

“Are you complaining?” Chloe says, batting her eyelashes.

“Would you like it if I stuck my…” She waves her hand vaguely. “Right in your face?”

Chloe’s face morphs into a devilish smirk that makes Beca’s stomach flip. “Yes,” she breathes, right in Beca’s ear. It sends tingles down her spine. “In fact, I would very much enjoy it.”

Beca stares at Chloe slightly openmouthed, thighs pressing together instinctually.

“There are other parts of your body I wouldn’t mind in my face, too,” Chloe continues, her voice low.

Beca makes a noise that probably sounds like an animal close to death, her whole body flushing hot. Jerkily, she stands up, tugging at the strap of Chloe’s top so she’ll get the idea. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Beca announces unnecessarily, hastily pushing in her chair.

“I’ll come with you,” Chloe says.

It takes everything Beca has not to slam her up against the wall right then and there.

* * *

“Beca? Chloe?” Emily calls. “Are you guys okay? It’s been twenty minu—”

“ _Beca_.”

“Fuck. Oh, my God.”

_Slam._

“Okay, leaving now!”

“You okay, girl?” Cynthia Rose asks when Emily returns, looking thoroughly traumatized. “Are they still in there.”

“Yeah, um,” Emily says, eyes wide. “They're… busy.”

“I bet they are,” Stacie says under her breath.


	144. Chapter 144

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Beca is on Barden’s girls’ soccer team and in the midst of a very important game she gets hurt and her and Chloe have to spend the rest of the day at the doctor?

Beca’s never been particularly great at running.

It’s not her speed that’s the issue; she’s pretty damn fast, as a matter of fact.

It’s the actual mechanics—the putting one foot in front of the other and  _not tripping over anything_  that gives her trouble.

So when Chloe sees Beca stumble over her own feet and go down— _hard_ —in the middle of the field, she’s not terribly surprised.

She  _is_  surprised to find that Beca seems to have actually hurt herself this time; usually, she just springs back up and continues playing. But when their coach holds up three fingers and Beca responds, “Purple,” the decision is made to take Beca to the hospital.

Chloe insists on accompanying her, of course—suddenly, she finds she doesn’t care very much about the playoffs. (It’s not like they’re short of players, anyway.)

Beca looks tiny curled up in the hospital bed. Chloe wants to climb in with her, but every time she moves, Beca goes, “Shh.” (Which is kind of hypocritical because she’s alternating between whimpering and muttering to herself.)

So when she hears a whispered, “Chloe,” she jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me,” Chloe whispers back.

Beca looks at her through squinted eyes. “My head hurts.”

“I know,” Chloe says, cautiously reaching out and taking Beca’s hand. “You hit it on the ground pretty hard.”

Beca’s eyebrows scrunch together. She looks confused. “Why?”

“You didn’t mean to,” Chloe tells her, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “It was an accident.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “Was that today?”

“Yeah, it was a couple of hours ago.”

Beca looks like she’s thinking hard for a moment. “Playoffs?”

Chloe’s not sure if it’s a question or a statement. “It was during playoffs,” she says. “Stacie texted me to tell me we still won, though.”

“Oh,” Beca repeats. “I want to throw up.”

Chloe sits up, putting her feet on the floor. “Do you need me to get you a bucket.”

Beca shakes her head, then immediately winces. “I’m not going to. I just want to.”

Chloe stands anyway, reluctantly letting go of Beca’s hand. “I’m gonna get you one just in case,” she says, fixing Beca’s blanket as she walks past.

“Chlo?” Beca calls after her, softly. Chloe turns to see her peeking out over the edge of the blanket.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being here.”

Chloe heads back over to her and places a soft kiss against her forehead. “You’re welcome.”


	145. Chapter 145

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe are admist a divorce and Beca is /trying/ so fucking hard to do better and stop working so much but Chloe does--not she can't let herself be hurt again by Beca she cant be in that vicious cycle anymore.

Chloe can’t do this anymore.

She always thought Beca was the love of her life—the person she would wake up to every day until her last. She fully expected to die in Beca’s arms, her last words a labored, “I love you.”

She still loves Beca; she loves her so much it hurts to breathe.

But she just can’t endure this pain any longer.

It started with a missed Valentine’s Day—no big deal, really. Beca had been bogged down at work and didn’t come home until late that night, completely forgetting their dinner reservations.

Chloe was okay with it. It’s just one Valentine’s Day.

But then it turned into more missed dates, forgotten plans, skipped commitments.

And then Beca forgot Chloe’s birthday. Their anniversary. Christmas dinner with Chloe’s parents.

Beca had felt terrible, of course—but her behavior didn’t change. She still worked late hours, and when she  _was_ home, she was shut into her tiny office with her headphones over her ears.

Chloe does believe that Beca tried. She  _knows_ Beca tried. She’s seen the sadness in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders, the regret laced with every breath.

But Beca is married to her work, not to Chloe.

Chloe sees that now.

She signs the divorce papers on what would have been their eighth anniversary, leaving them on their kitchen table with a note that just reads  _I’m sorry_.

_I’m sorry it had to come to this._

_I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to make myself stay._

_I’m sorry I couldn’t try harder._

Then she picks up her suitcase and leaves their apartment for the last time.


	146. Chapter 146

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write a drabble where Beca and Chloe broke up because of Beca's career they had no time for each other. And Beca thought she is not in love with Chloe anymore. But her most popular songs are all about Chloe.

It’s not on purpose.

Beca doesn’t even really like writing songs about love; it’s overdone, really. There are plenty of other things to write songs about—like ice cream and driving really fast and how annoying it is when people walk really slowly in front of you.

Okay, so those songs  _probably_ wouldn’t sell very well, but the point still stands.

Beca’s been in love—really, truly, deeply in love—once. She had four wonderful years of marriage with Chloe, but Beca evidently just couldn’t manage both work and a relationship. 

Chloe gave Beca an ultimatum—cut back at work or she was leaving.

And Beca, because she’s an idiot, chose work.

That was a long time ago, though, and Beca’s moved on.

Sure, sometimes she still pulls out her phone to text Chloe about something funny that happened at work; it hurts to breathe for a minute when she realizes what she’s doing, but it passes.

Beca doesn’t realizes how still in love she is until her latest single comes on the radio when she’s driving.

(Okay, technically not  _her_ single—one she produced. For a rather bratty and entitled young pop star who shall remain nameless.)

It hits her suddenly and it hits her hard, and she nearly plows into the guardrail on the highway.

Luckily, she doesn’t—instead, she drives home and listens to all of her most recent productions (and all her most recent hits, she’d like to add).

Chloe is everywhere: She’s laced in with the lyrics and the melodies of the songs; she’s burned into the backs of Beca’s eyelids when she closes her eyes. She’s still woven into every part of Beca’s life—

Beca’s still in love with Chloe, and she can’t fool herself into thinking she isn’t any longer.

And she cries, because she screwed up the best thing she has ever had and ever will have in her life.


	147. Chapter 147

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe moves into a new apartment and all her floor mates are super nice and apparently all friends (who find her extremely hot) but Chloe lasers in on Beca who doesn't know how to handle her new flirtatious neighbor even if she really really wants to hit on her

Beca’s not really sure how she ended up friends with the majority of the people living on her floor. She doesn’t really do “friends” in general, but her neighbors are nothing if not persistent.

She’s not even sure if she’s friends with them because she likes them or she’s friends with them because they just kept showing up on her doorstop with food until she finally let them in.

Jesse lives right next to Beca; if Beca had to pick one person to blame for this whole “friends” thing, it’d be him, because once she agreed to hang out with him all the others soon followed.

Cynthia Rose lives two doors down. She has great taste in music, although the frequency with which she changes girlfriends is mildly concerning.

Amy lives across the hall. Beca’s never actually been inside her apartment, but with some of the strange noises she sometimes hears coming out of there, she isn’t sure she ever wants to.

Jessica and Ashley live a few more doors down; they’re a constant presence at parties and get-togethers, but Beca doesn’t think she’s ever heard either of them say anything.

Lilly lives next to Amy. The fire department as been to her apartment no less than six times in the last two months.

Lastly, Stacie and Aubrey live on the other side of Jesse. Beca isn’t really sure what their… arrangement is, but the moans and screams she hears leaking outside their door indicates that it’s (at least) a sexual one.

And then Chloe moved in next to Stacie and Aubrey. Beca actually remembers the exact day it happened, because she got a text message from Jesse that said,  _WE HAVE A HOT NEW NEIGHBOR._

She wouldn’t ever admit it, but Beca finds that she has to agree.

She meets Chloe for the first time at a housewarming party that Jesse throws (and volunteers Beca to buy drinks for). Beca spots her across the room speaking to Cynthia Rose, who waves her over.

“Beca, this is Chloe,” Cynthia Rose says when Beca approaches. “She lives in 34B.”

“I heard,” Beca says, shaking Chloe’s hand. The first thing she notices is that Chloe’s eyes are  _very_ , very blue. “I’m Beca.”

“Hi, Beca,” Chloe greets. The second thing Beca notices is that she  _really_ likes the way her name sounds coming out of Chloe’s mouth.

 _Calm down_ , she tells herself,  _she just moved here. She doesn’t need you jumping her._

Somebody calls Cynthia Rose away, leaving just Beca and Chloe. “So…” Beca says—she’s always been terrible at small talk. “How do you like the apartment?”

“It’s really nice,” Chloe tells her with a smile. “Everyone seems so friendly.”

“Cool,” Beca responds, shoving her hands in her pockets. 

“Hey, Chloe!” Jesse shouts from across the room. Beca turns to see him standing with Amy, whom Chloe hasn’t yet met.

“Excuse me,” Chloe says apologetically. As she brushes past Beca, she whispers, “The only thing I wouldn’t take off you is my eyes.”

And then she saunters away, leaving Beca staring after her in disbelief.

 

Beca makes it three weeks before she finally gives in a sleeps with Chloe.

It’s the neighborly thing to do, after all.


	148. Chapter 148

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a married AU one where Beca loses Chloe’s favorite yellow cup and so Emily (their 10-year-old daughter) is like “Mommy is gonna kill you, mom,” and tries to help Beca look but then Chloe gets home and she knows they’re hiding something so she gets Emily to spit it out and she gets mad at Beca? You decide whether it’s real or just pretend mad.

Beca doesn’t really understand what the big deal is about that cup.

Chloe’s been carrying it around since college, the Barden logo all but worn off of the yellow plastic. She uses it at least once a day, and she won’t let anyone else touch it.

Chloe will even go so far as to bring it with them on vacation.

It’s ridiculous, and kind of childish, and more than a little weird, but it is just a cup. So Beca humors her.

She’s in the middle of washing said stupid cup when she hears her phone ring in the other room. She dries her hands on a dishtowel and heads into the living room, where her phone is vibrating against the coffee table. It’s the annoying new intern at the studio whom Beca made the mistake of giving her phone number to; she ignores it.

When she goes back into the kitchen to resume washing dishes, she stops short.

The cup is gone.

“Fuck,” Beca swears loudly, rushing over to look in the sink. It’s not there.

“Mom?”

Beca turns to see Emily standing in the threshold of the kitchen, looking concerned. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “You said a bad word.”

Fuck. Beca promised Chloe she wouldn’t swear in front of Emily. “Do you have Mommy’s cup? The yellow one?”

“No,” Emily says, looking confused. “She doesn’t let me use it. Why?”

“Shi—shoot.” Beca runs her hands through her hair. “It was right here"—she points to the counter—"three seconds ago, and now it’s gone.”

Emily’s eyes widen. “You lost the cup?” Beca nods. “Mommy is gonna kill you, Mom.”

“I know,” Beca groans, tipping her head back. “Help me look for it?”

“Okay,” Emily agrees, and she immediately crawls under the kitchen table.

Beca goes to tell her that that’s a dumb place to look (but, you know, more nicely), but she decides against it—an inanimate cup vanished from her kitchen counter. No place is off limits at this point.

Beca looks over all of the countertops and in all of the cabinets. Nothing. She even gets down and crawls around on the floor with Emily for a bit.

 _Where the fuck could that cup have gone?_  she thinks to herself after a good fifteen minutes of looking.  _Am I losing it? Was there ever a yellow cup to begin with? Did I imagine this whole thing? Am I imagining, this, too—_

Her internal existential monologue is cut short by the sound of the front door opening.

Beca springs to her feet, nearly knocking her head against the counter in the process. Emily scrambles out from under the table as well, and Beca’s  _just_ finishing righting her shirt when Chloe comes into the room.

“Hey,” she greets, dropping her keys on the table. Then she stops, eyeing Beca and Emily, who’re both standing a little too stiffly with fake smiles plastered on their faces. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing,” Beca says quickly. “Absolutely nothing. Just a normal day.” She tries to laugh nonchalantly, but it comes out sounding more like someone’s stepped on her toe.

“Emily,” Chloe says evenly, and Beca knows she’s in trouble, “what were you and Mom doing?”

Emily looks nervously between her two moms. “Nothing?”

Beca facepalms internally. Her daughter is an even worse liar than she is.

“Emily Bella Beale-Mitchell,” Chloe says sternly, “I am going to count to three, and then you  _will_  tell me what’s going on.”

Emily glances at Beca, looking absolutely terrified.  
“One—”

“Mom lost your yellow cup!” Emily blurts.

“Come  _on_  Em, she didn’t even get to two!” Beca can’t help but shout. She really needs to toughen that kid up.

“I’m sorry!” Emily apologizes, looking like she might cry.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay,” Chloe tells Emily. “It’s not your fault.”

“Okay,” Emily says softly, sniffling a little. She hurries out of the kitchen; Chloe plants a quick kiss on her head as she shuffles past.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Beca says, scratching the back of her head awkwardly. “I was washing dishes and my phone rang and when I came back it was just… gone.”

Chloe gives Beca a hard look. “What do you mean,  _gone_?”

“Um,” Beca says, “like, not there? Missing? Evaporated? Abducted by aliens?”

“Yeah, sure,” Chloe says sarcastically. “You had one job, Beca!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Beca asks confusedly.

“It means I’m not having sex with you until you find my cup!” Chloe shouts. Then she turns and storms out of the room.

“You can’t withhold sex every time you don’t like a situation!” Beca yells after her, but it’s pointless to argue. Chloe is very strong-willed when she wants to be. “Goddammit,” she curses under her breath.

She needs to find that cup.

* * *

Beca finds the cup two days later—in their basement, on top of the pile of old clothes on which their cat likes to sleep (and hoard random household items).

“Fucking cat,” Beca mutters.

That cat owes her at least $300 in damages.


	149. Chapter 149

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a mini fic where beca texts these to Chloe, ":[Text] Can you come pick me up? May have been drinking and may have also punched out a guy for talking shit. :[Text] This is going to sound a little strange, but what's the best way to get blood stains out of clothes?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of blood.

It’s 3 am.

That’s the first thought Chloe has when she fumbles for her buzzing phone and looks blearily at the screen.

It takes her a moment of squinting against its brightness in the dark room before she can make out the text messages that have so rudely interrupted her sleep.

_**Beca Mitchell:** Can you come pick me up? May have been drinking and have have also punched out a guy for talking shit._

Well,  _that_ gets Chloe’s attention.

_**Beca Mitchell:** This is going to sound a little strange, but what’s the best way to get blood stains out of clothes?_

She immediately calls Beca.

“Hullo?” Beca says when she picks up, her words slightly slurred.

“Beca, where are you?” Chloe asks, sitting up and flipping on her light.

“I’m…” A beat of silence passes. “On the sidewalk.”

Beca tends to get very literal when she’s drunk. “On the sidewalk  _where_ , Bec?”

“Outside of Joe’s,” Beca clarifies. 

“Are you by yourself?” Chloe holds the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she pulls on a pair of jeans.

“Nope,” Beca says. “There’s a guy across the street. I think he’s drunk, too.”

Chloe takes that as a  _yes_ , Beca is alone. “Can you go back inside Joe’s until I can come get you?”

“No can do,” Beca tells her. “They kicked me out.” A pause. “Because I punched a guy.” Another pause. “In the face.”

Chloe sighs, stuffing her feet into her shoes. “ _Why_  did you punch a guy in the face, exactly?”

“He called me a munchkin,” Beca says, disdain evident in her voice. “Then he asked me how to get to the Wizard of Oz.”

Chloe bites her lip to keep from chuckling. Only Beca would actually  _punch someone_  over such a throwaway comment from some douchebag.

“Isn’t that rude?” Beca continues. Then, in a smaller voice, “It hurt my feelings.”

Chloe  _does_ start to laugh at that, but she covers it with a cough. “Okay, just stay there. I’m coming.”

“See you soon!” Beca says brightly, then hangs up the phone.

When Chloe pulls up in front of the bar, she quickly spots Beca standing right in the middle of the sidewalk, swaying slightly on her feet.

“Bec!” she calls, climbing out of the car.

Beca looks around for a moment, confused.

“Beca,” Chloe says, striding over to her. “Over here.”

“Hi!” Beca says. Her hair is a little disheveled and her eyeliner is a bit smudged, but she looks otherwise okay. Save for the spots of blood smattered across her t-shirt.

“Are you alright?” Chloe asks, just to be sure.

“I’m  _great_ ,” Beca says emphatically as Chloe takes her hand and leads her over to the car. She helps her slide into the passenger seat, being careful not to let her bump her head.

“Beca, next time you decide to get drunk in the middle of the night, can you please let someone know where you’re going?” Chloe says as she starts the car. “Or bring a friend?”

“Ooookay, mom,” Beca says, giving Chloe one of those toothy grins she only does when she’s drunk.

“And punching people who say rude things to you is not a good idea.” Chloe pulls onto the main road that’ll take them back to Barden. “You could’ve gotten arrested.”

“Yeah, but I  _didn’t_ ,” Beca says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Chloe sighs. “Please, just—don’t do it, okay? For me?”

Beca tips her head back and groans. “ _Fine_.”

“Thank you.” Chloe pulls into the driveway of the Bella house. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m too tired,” Beca complains. “Can I just sleep in here?”

“No,” Chloe says, and Beca makes a displeased face. “Let’s go inside.”

“My legs are too tired to walk.”

Chloe forgot how whiny Beca gets when she’s been drinking.

“Do I need to carry you inside?” Chloe asks, pressing her fingertips to her forehead.

Beca gives her a tiny smirk that tells Chloe that’s exactly what she was fishing for.

Chloe sighs again, gets out and rounds the car, pulling Beca to her feet before scooping her up into her arms, Beca’s head lolling against her shoulder.

“You’re too big for this shit, Bec,” Chloe grunts, although, privately, she enjoys it. It makes her feel strong, protective.

“Mmph,” is all Beca says in response, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s neck. Then she mumbles, “Love you.”

Chloe presses a kiss to the top of Beca’s head. “Love you too, munchkin.”

“If I weren’t so tired I would punch you in the face,” Beca says, albeit the fact that she nuzzles in closer to Chloe’s neck.

Chloe just rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”


	150. Chapter 150

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 on the prompt where Beca cheats on Chloe

It’s very strange being with the person who used to be your everything after years of being nothing.

Chloe is still Chloe, of course—she still pours way too much sugar into her coffee and taps her foot against the base of the table in a way that makes the liquid in Beca’s cup shake slightly. It’s something that used to drive Beca nuts, but now all of Chloe’s little annoying habits just make her feel nostalgic.

Chloe has to fill Beca in on the life she’s had without Beca, and it almost feels like a first date. Beca has to relearn Chloe—the way her nose crinkles when she laughs, the ragged edges of her cuticles where she picks at them when she’s stressed, the tiny scar on her forehead—after so much time apart.

It saddens Beca how much she’s missed because she was too stupid to not fuck up the best relationship of her life, but she tries not to think too much about it; she has a second chance, and she’s not going to let the past ruin it for her.

She’s nervous the entire time—she’s  _so_ nervous, because she never stopped loving Chloe but there’s no indication that Chloe didn’t pick right up and move on. They’ve known each other for more than ten years at this point, and Beca  _still_ worries about impressing Chloe. 

Beca manages to get through their coffee… thing (is it a date? is it not a date?) without spilling anything, although when Chloe had winked at her she nearly upturned her cup. She feels lighter than she has in a long time, although she doesn’t really know what that means for the future.

Right now, though—she has Chloe’s new phone number and plans to see a movie in a week, so she can worry about it later.


	151. Chapter 151

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you make a Bechloe drabble based on "steal my girl" by one direction's song please... I've been craving that ever since I saw this post -> brittany-snodes(.)tumblr(.)com/post/116519254030/my-hand-slipped

Chloe is hot. Beca knows this, Chloe knows this—everyone with working eyes knows this.

Beca is obviously eternally grateful to Chloe’s parents and their glorious genes, but she could really do without all of the random people hitting on Chloe.

Chloe. Her girlfriend. Not anyone else’s.  _Hers_.

It’s become an issue.

Beca never thought she was the jealous type; she prides herself on truly not caring what other people do or think. But Chloe is the most wonderful that’s ever happened to her, and Beca’s not going to let anyone interfere with that.

It happens most often when they go out—Chloe, for her part, likes to dress in tight, low-cut clothing that shows off her figure. Beca isn’t complaining—because  _hello_ —but other people notice.

Like the doofy oaf who comes lumbering over to them in the bar Chloe’s dragged them to. He looks like he’s made entirely out of ham with some brown hair on top, and he has that droopy smirk on his face that all of the drunk guys who hit on Chloe tend to wear.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, his words slightly slurred.

Chloe gives him a wary smile. “Hello.”

(Chloe is polite. Frustratingly polite. She actually cares about other people’s feelings, and is terrified to hurt them.)

The guy climbs onto a barstool and leans his elbow on the counter, propping his head on his fist. “How’re you?”

Beca’s hand clenches protectively on Chloe’s thigh as she answers, “Fine, you?”

“Damn straight, you’re fine,” the guy says, trying to wiggle his eyebrows—it comes across looking more like a muscle spasm.

“Um, excuse me,” Beca pipes up, trying to keep the angry edge out of her voice, “but she’s with me.”

The guy looks Beca up and down. “You?” He laughs and turns back to Chloe. “Baby, you need a man to show you what love  _really_ looks like.”

Chloe stiffens, looking extremely uncomfortable. “Oh, that’s  _it_ ,” Beca mutters, sliding off of the barstool.

“Beca,” Chloe says warningly, but Beca ignores her.

“If you could kindly fuck off, that would be great,” Beca says, getting right into the guy’s face.

She tends makes poor decisions when she’s been drinking—and coupled with her anger, she’s not afraid to tell this guy off. Even if he is three times her size.

“I’d rather fuck this lovely lady right he—”

 _Wham_.

“Beca!” Chloe shrieks, yanking her back. 

It isn’t until Beca feels the stinging pain in her knuckles and sees the guy nearly doubled over that she realizes that she’s just punched him in the face.

“What the  _fuck_?” the guy shouts.

“We need to leave,” Chloe says urgently, tossing a few bucks onto the counter and hustling Beca out of the bar.

“Beca, you could’ve gotten really hurt,” Chloe tells her as they hurry down the sidewalk in case someone decides to call the police. “Or arrested.”

“Sorry,” Beca mumbles, looking down at her feet. She feels stupid for losing control of her emotions over something so petty. “Are you mad?”

Chloe stops in her tracks, and Beca looks up at her to see her pupils dilated significantly. “Mad?” Chloe asks. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

Beca blinks. “Oh.” She smiles a little. “Okay.”

“I don’t condone violence,” Chloe purrs into Beca’s ear, “but right now I need to get you into bed.”

Her words send a shiver down Beca’s spine. “You’re right,” she says, grabbing Chloe’s hand and walking quickly down the street. “We need to leave.”


	152. Chapter 152

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: best friends. When girls hit on Beca (or on occasion Beca hits on them) Chloe likes to be subtly possessive over Beca until one girl tries something and Chloe drops being subtle and shoots whatever going on down. Beca knows. She's always known. Why else would she be so open to other girls flirting with her?

hloe’s starting to get a little tired of watching other girls hit on Beca.

Actually, scratch that—she’s never been okay with it, but she’s approaching her limit.

She’s not sure how much more obvious she can be with her feelings for Beca, short of plastering them up on a billboard.

Chloe could just  _tell_ Beca how she feels, but with the way Beca flirts right back with these strangers, she’s just not interested.

Chloe is her best friend, and that comes first—Beca doesn’t need her best friend hanging all over her because she can’t keep it in her pants.

She tries not to react, but sometimes Chloe can’t help but tighten her grip on Beca’s arm, or interrupt their conversation, or tries to redirect Beca’s attention to her. It’s a bit petty, but Chloe can’t help it. 

The flirting is usual just verbal banter and some eyelash-batting; Chloe can usually roll her eyes and bite her tongue, but  _this_ girl has the  _audacity_  to  _touch_ Beca.

(It’s just a hand on an arm, but it’s enough. Chloe’s been okay with pretending this doesn’t bother her, but she’s hit her breaking point.)

“Excuse me,” Chloe says, voice dripping with false sweetness and wrapping an arm around Beca and pulling her in close, “but I would appreciate it if you could keep your hands off of my girlfriend.”

She feels Beca stiffen a little at her side, but the girl immediately retracts her hand, looking horrified. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She scurries away.

There’s a beat of silence; Chloe squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, bracing herself for the look of confusion and anger that’s sure to be on Beca’s face.

“Bec, I’m—”

But Beca doesn’t look angry, and she doesn’t look confused. She looks… pleased. And amused. And maybe a little aroused?

“Fucking finally,” Beca breathes, and now Chloe’s the one who’s confused.

“What?” she asks dumbly.

“You like me,” Beca says simply, by way of explanation.

Chloe isn’t sure what to say to that. She allows a cautious, “Yes?”

“Oh, thank God,” Beca says. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

“Wait, you like me?”

Beca gives her a tiny, self-satisfied smile. “A bit.”

“And you thought I liked you,” Chloe says slowly, trying to fit all of the pieces together.

“Yes.”

Chloe stares at her in disbelief. “Then why the  _fuck_  didn’t you say something?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Beca says, a little softer. “And watching you get all jealous is kinda hot.”

“You are unbelievable.” Chloe wants to be mad, she really does. But she finds herself smiling stupidly. “I’m mad at you,” she tells Beca, just for good measure.

“No, you loooove me,” Beca counters, trying to bat her eyelashes (it ends up just looking strange and awkward).

Chloe rolls her eyes. She won’t deny or confirm that.


	153. Chapter 153

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey could you do a sequel to the prompt about Chloe being an intern and Beca being scared of stitches and stuff?

Chloe sees Beca a week and two days later.

Actually, Beca requests for her specifically to remove the stitches.

Beca, for her part, looks far more calm this time, smiling at Chloe when she enters the room.

“Hi, Dr. Beale,” Beca says, her bandaged hand cradled in her lap.

“Good to see you again, Beca,” Chloe says warmly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “How’re you?”

“Good,” Beca says, watching as Chloe sets down the tray carrying the forceps and scissors. “Ready to get these things out of my hand.”

“How’s the cut?” Chloe asks. “Is it bothering you at all—itchiness, soreness?”

Beca shakes her head. “It’s fine.”

“Great.” Chloe unwraps the bandage and sets to work sterilizing the area around the cut. The muscles in Beca’s hand tense, and when Chloe looks up, she sees that Beca’s squeezed her eyes shut and is breathing unevenly. “Beca?”

Beca opens one eye. “Yes?”

“Relax,” Chloe tells her. “This won’t hurt.”

Beca’s hand relaxes slightly, but it’s still fairly rigid, and her other hand is curled tightly into a fist. 

Chloe shakes her head and started to sing quietly under her breath, “Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining.” She peeks up at Beca, who still has her eyes closed but is smiling slightly. “Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her trying. She’s so beautiful, and I tell her every day.”

Finally, Beca starts to relax a bit, and Chloe quickly and easily removes the stitches as she sings the hook and the chorus.

“Aaaand you’re done!” Chloe announces, putting the tools down and rewrapping Beca’s hand in a clean bandage. 

“Really?” Beca looks down at her hand. “Wow, that was fast.”

“That’s what she said,” Chloe says before she can stop herself. She quickly covers her mouth. “I’m sorry, that was really unprofessional.”

Beca chuckles. “I won’t tell.”

“Thank you.” Chloe peels off her gloves and picks up the tray. “Take care, Beca.”

“Wait!”

Chloe turns on her heel in the doorway. “Yeah?”

“Would you…” Beca trails off, looking away shyly. “Would you want to maybe, like, get coffee or something sometime? With me?”

Chloe’s eyebrows shoot up. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yes?” Beca twists the fabric of her shirt nervously in her uninjured hand. “If that’s okay?”

“I don’t really make it a point to date my patients,” Chloe says, “but I guess you’re technically not my patient anymore.”

“Is that a yes?” Beca asks, looking at Chloe again.

Chloe smiles. “Sure. As long as you promise not to hurt yourself again.

Beca’s face splits into a proud grin. “Deal.”


	154. Chapter 154

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe has a miscarriage and Beca does not know to do to revive it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if there’s some sort of translation issue with this one or the prompter just don’t know, but (obviously) you can’t revive a miscarried fetus. That’s just… not how it works.
> 
> Discussion of a miscarriage (obviously), mentions of blood, the hospital, etc. Also angst.

Chloe’s always wanted children.

She’s always wanted a little girl she can take to ballet and dress in pink. She’s always wanted a little boy she can toss a football with and teach about dinosaurs.

So when she finds out she’s pregnant with her first child, it feels like all of her dreams are coming true.

Chloe can barely wait to start decorating the spare bedroom she and Beca are converting into a nursery, and she buys every baby book she can get her hands on. She and Beca trade name ideas late at night before they drift off to sleep.

Everything is perfect.

Or it is, at least, until she wakes up in a pool of her own blood one night with excruciating pains in her abdomen.

Chloe knows exactly what’s happened before she even opens her eyes, and her heart sinks into her stomach, her heart clenching.

“Bec,” she says, pushing at her wife’s shoulder with a shaking hand. “Beca, wake up.”

“Wha?” Beca asks sleepily, opening one eye slightly.

“Beca,” Chloe repeats, trying to keep the panic out of her voice, “we need to go to the hospital.  _Now_.”

At this, Beca’s eyes open immediately, and she sits up. “Why? What’s wrong?”

And then she looks down, and all of the color drains from her face.

“No,” she whispers, pressing a hand to her mouth. “No, no,  _no_.”

It breaks something inside of Chloe, and suddenly she’s sobbing into her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Baby,” Beca breathes out, wrapping Chloe in her arms, “it’s not your fault.” She clenches a hand in Chloe’s hair, her breath hot on her ear. Chloe can feel Beca’s tears against her cheek, mingling with her own. “It’s not your fault.”

Chloe nearly doubles over as the pain shoots through her again, letting out a sharp groan. She feels empty and full at the same time, like she’s weighted down by all of the future plans she’s now lost.

Beca tries her best to half-drag Chloe out of the bed, supporting her with an arm around her shoulders to walk out of the house and to the car.

Every step is a struggle, and Chloe has to turn away when they pass the door of their in-progress nursery.

“It’ll be okay,” Beca says, voice thick with emotion, as she puts the key into the ignition of the car. Chloe isn’t sure if she’s talking to herself or to Chloe. “We’ll get through this.” She looks at Chloe for a moment, her eyes wide and sad.

Chloe leans her head against the cool glass of the window.

She can’t possibly see how.


	155. Chapter 155

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Beca are modern day royalty prim and proper for the public, at least Chloe is—tries to be. Beca isn't as convincing with her smirks and scoffs but at high profile gala Beca and Stacie meet Chloe and Aubrey and all Beca knows is that one way or another she'll get Chloe to say yes to going out with her, even if she's being shot down with a playfully (meanwhile Stacie is enjoying flirting w/Aubrey)

Beca doesn’t really understand why she’s obligated to go to these things.

Just because her mom is a cousin of the queen shouldn’t mean that Beca has to squish herself into a dress and high heels and pretend she isn’t bored out of her mind for a few hours.

Apparently—unfortunately—it does.

“I don’t want to be here,” Beca mumbles under her breath as she teeters in her heels through the crowd.

“Shush,” her sister Stacie tells her, plucking a flute of champagne off of a tray carried by a nearby waiter. “Just smile for a couple of hours and then you can leave.”

“Fine,” Beca grumbles. She surveys the room of elegantly dressed people mingling and dancing and swishing around. 

And then she spots a familiar face.

“Hey,” Beca says, tapping Stacie’s arm. “There’s Chloe and Aubrey.”

Stacie looks up. “Oh, hey,” she calls, waving the two over.

The daughters of Lords Beale and Posen weave around the waiters and the guests to stand before them.

“Hello,” Chloe says, smiling. She looks as beautiful as Beca’s ever seen her in a long, pale blue gown that accentuates her eyes perfectly.

Chloe Beale is flawless. She spends her time volunteering to teach underprivileged children to sing. Her porcelain skin is so clear and smooth that Beca can almost see her reflection in it.

The only issue is that Chloe won’t accept her proposals for a date.

“Good evening,” Aubrey greets, looking radiant in green. Beca knows that Stacie is eyeing Aubrey up and down.

“How are you, my lady?” Beca asks Chloe.

“I’m well,” Chloe responds, raising an eyebrow. “How about you? What have you been up to?”

“Why don’t I tell you over coffee sometime?” Beca tries. It’s a lame attempt, but— _goddammit_ —she  _will_ get Chloe to go out with her sometime.

She just has to keep trying.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Smooth.”

“Is that a no?”

Chloe pauses, a finger to her lips, pretending to think. 

“Damn, Posen, you clean up well,” Beca hears Stacie say. She glances at the two; Stacie has her index finger hooked in the strap of Aubrey’s dress. Aubrey looks somewhat flustered, and she keeps glancing at the plunging neckline of Stacie’s gown.

“I’ll think about it,” Chloe says finally, smiling coyly.

“You’ll think about it?” Beca repeats.

“Yep.”

“You’re killing me, Beale,” Beca groans, and Chloe laughs.

Stacie and Aubrey have drifted a few feet away as impatient guests push between them, but Beca can still somewhat make out their conversation. 

“You know, that dress would look a lot better on my floor,” Stacie purrs. Beca turns away just as Aubrey’s face goes red; Beca doesn’t particularly want images of Stacie and Aubrey doing… things in her head.

“You look beautiful tonight, Beca,” Chloe says quietly, and it makes Beca feel warm all over.

“You can’t distract me from rejection with your compliments,” Beca says jokingly. (Half-joking. But still.)

Chloe pokes her in the arm. “A lady has to at least pretend to play hard to get.”

“Oh,” Beca says conspiratorially, nodding. “I see. So,” she whispers, “coffee on Thursday?”

“Miss Beale!” 

Both girls turn to see Chloe’s dad beckoning her over.

“I have to go,” Chloe says, grabbing Beca’s hand and kissing it lightly. Her skin tingles where Chloe’s lips made contact. 

And then she turns and starts across the room, leaving Beca to stare after her.

She’ll get Chloe Beale to go out with her someday if it’s the last thing she does.


	156. Chapter 156

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request for something similar to Beca driving Chloe nuts by drinking out of the orange juice carton

Chloe hates the sound of people chewing gum.

It’s gross, it’s obnoxious, and it’s completely unnecessary.

She  _especially_ hates when people chew gum with their mouths open.

She’s told Beca this on countless occasions, but either Beca forgets or she’s deliberately trying to annoy Chloe.

Chloe tries to be polite about it, but she’s just about reached her limit. 

Beca is particularly bad about it when she’s mixing—she zones out, headphones over her ears, chomping away at multiple pieces of gum.

It drives Chloe  _nuts_.

“Beca,” Chloe says, nudging Beca with her toe. She’s sprawled out on the couch reading a book; Beca’s at the other end, computer on her lap.

Beca looks up. “Huh?”

“Please close your mouth,” Chloe says, a little tightly.

“Mmhmm,” Beca says; it’s clear that she’s not really listening, but she does start to chew with her mouth closed.

It lasts all of three minutes.

“Bec.”

“What?” Beca asks, a little irritatedly. She hates to be interrupted when she’s mixing.

“Mouth,” is all Chloe says.

Beca rolls her eyes. “Sorry,” she says, a twinge of sarcasm in her voice.

The reprieve lasts for ten minutes this time, and then Beca’s right back at it.

“For God’s sake, Beca,” Chloe snaps, “ _please_ close your mouth.”

Beca doesn’t even answer; she just very dramatically snaps her mouth closed.

She doesn’t even make it a full two minutes this time.

“Oh, that’s it,” Chloe mutters to herself, putting down her book and shifting into a sitting position. She reaches out and plugs Beca’s nose with her fingers.

“Chloe, what the fuck?” Beca says, her voice nasal. She moves to shove Chloe’s arm away, but Chloe blocks her.

“Spit it out,” Chloe orders, holding a hand under Beca’s chin.

Beca tries to pull her head back, then winces. “Let me go!” she demands.

“Spit. It. Out,” Chloe tells her sternly.

Beca stares at her defiantly for a moment, but Chloe just glares right back, silently telling Beca she’s not going to back down. 

Finally, Beca averts her gaze and reluctantly opens her mouth, dropping the wad of gum into Chloe’s hand.

“ _Thank_  you,” Chloe says dryly, standing up to throw it away. Beca just rubs her nose and turns back to her laptop.

Chloe just shakes her head.

She doesn’t know she puts up with Beca half the time.


	157. Chapter 157

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca wants to start a family but they both want to carry the baby

Chloe never really pictured Beca pregnant before.

She never thought that Beca would ever  _want_ to be pregnant. Chloe had always figured that she’d be the one carrying the baby while Beca brought her tea and rubbed her feet.

Actually, she was kind of looking forward to it.

So when Beca said, “Do you mind if I carry this one?” Chloe’s response of, “Uh,  _what_?” is understandable.

“I’d like to carry this baby,” Beca says, raising her eyebrows slightly.

“Really?” Chloe asks. She’s trying to picture Beca with a basketball-sized bump under her faded t-shirt, waddling around on her skinny little legs.

“Why are you so surprised?” Beca huffs, looking annoyed. “Why can’t I want to be pregnant?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe says, trying to school her face into a neutral expression. “I just… didn’t think you’d want to be.”

“Well, I do.” Beca crosses her arms. “Is that okay with you?”

“Well…” Chloe scratches her head awkwardly. “I kind of thought I would.”

Beca frowns. “I said I wanted to first.”

“Are we in third grade, Beca?” Chloe asks, exasperated. She’s  _clearly_ the better choice to carry the baby—she works less, she’s less stressed out, and she’s… just the better choice, okay?

“We have to figure this out somehow.”

Then Chloe’s hit with an idea. “What if we both did?”

Beca blinks. “Uh, do you know how babies… work?”

Chloe waves her hand. “I meant, like, if we  _both_ carried babies. At the same time.”

Beca shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Chloe asks, mildly offended.

“Do you really want both of us all crazy with hormones at the same time?” Beca points out. “Plus we’d both be recovering from giving birth around the same time.”

She has a point. “Okay, never mind,” Chloe acquiesces. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

Beca opens her mouth, then closes it. “Sure,” she says finally. “Not like I have a better idea,” she adds under her breath.

“Okay,” Chloe says, holding out her hand. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!”


	158. Chapter 158

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe playing a really intense game of monopoly and Beca getting frustrated because she's losing. After the game ends Chloe relieves Beca of her frustration with cuddles and affection.

Beca is a sore loser. She won’t admit it, but she is.

It’s a strange juxtaposition because Beca is also one of the most apathetic people Chloe’s ever met—but Beca is just strange in general.

Example: She turns into a whiny child over a board game.

“Ha! I win! Suck on that!”

(Okay, so maybe Chloe acts like a child sometimes, too.)

“You cheated!” Beca accuses, angrily sweeping up the game pieces and dumping them into the box.

“How?” Chloe asks, trying to keep the smug smile off of her face. ( _”I’m awesome at board games,”_  Beca had said.  _“You’re going down, Beale.”_ )

Beca makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “I don’t know,” she admits. “But you must have.”

“Aw, is somebody a sore loser?” Chloe teases, loving the way Beca’s ears go red. (She’s a bad person, she knows.)

“No,” Beca denies, crossing her arms. “I don’t care about that stupid game, anyway,” she grumbles. She kicks at the box with her foot.

“Does someone need a hug?” Chloe asks, already reaching for Beca.

It isn’t really a question, and after being friends for awhile, Beca knows this, too. But she still mutters, “No.”

“I think someone needs a hug,” Chloe tells her, wrapping her arms around Beca and squeezing tight.

“I can’t breathe,” Beca says, but she still sinks into the embrace.

“Are you complaining?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, shush,” Chloe says, leaning her head against Beca’s.

“I’m still mad at you,” Beca says after a few moments.

Chloe plants a sloppy kiss to Beca’s cheek.

“That’s fine.”


	159. Chapter 159

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write a fic where Beca acts in a show and Chloe isn't really famous, other than being known as Beca's gf. There's a new guy on the TV show that is cast as Beca's love interest, but the show wants to keep his presence a secret. The media misinterprets it and Chloe sees an article about Beca cheating on her, w/ pictures of them kissing and holding hands, and she tries to break up w/ Beca but Beca explains to her that the guy is her fictional boyfriend and nothing more

Sometimes, Chloe really, really hates the whole fame thing.

She’s happy that Beca’s found success—she’s  _thrilled_  for her—but some days, it just sucks.

Like today. Today sucks a lot. Any day when you have to find out your girlfriend is cheating on you via a tabloid magazine in the grocery store is going to suck.

The  _Beca Mitchell and girlfriend Chloe are splitsville? Mitchell spotted with new man on her arm_   accompanied by photos of Beca kissing some guy jumps out at her and nearly knocks her over, and Chloe ditches her groceries altogether in favor of driving straight home.

She’s not sure if Beca will be there or not; her filming schedule has been especially hectic lately—but now Chloe suspects that that could have all been a lie to cover up this fling.

Chloe’s actually kind of hoping Beca isn’t home; she’s too angry right now to do much more than cry and scream into her pillow.

She should have remembered that the universe hates her, though, because Beca’s curled up on the couch with her laptop in the living room.

“Hey, Chlo—whoa, what’s wrong?” Beca shoves her laptop to the side, moving to stand up.

“Don’t,” Chloe says, holding up her hand. 

Beca looks confused, and slowly sinks back down. “What’s going on?”

“I know you’re cheating on me,” Chloe blurts and oh, great, now she’s crying. She didn’t intend to start the conversation exactly this way, but she has absolutely no filter when she’s upset.

“Wha—what?” Beca says, looking even more confused. “I didn’t—I’m not—why would you think that?”

“Oh, don’t even try,” Chloe says, wiping at her eyes. “I saw photos of you two canoodling on the cover of a magazine.” She laughs bitterly. “I had to find out from a magazine, Beca. Do you know what that’s like?”

Beca stares at her for a moment like Chloe has three heads, but then her face relaxes into an expression of realization. “Was it a tall guy with brown hair and, like”—she gestures vaguely to her face—”some stubble?”

“Yeah, why?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms. “Is there more than one?”

“Chloe, baby,” Beca says gently, “that’s my new co-star.”

Chloe recoils when Beca reaches out to her. “Is that supposed to make a difference?”

“No, I mean that those photos are from us shooting,” Beca explains, her voice small and scared, like Chloe won’t believe her. “He’s my character’s new love interest.”

Chloe stares at her, uncertain.

“The tabloids don’t know about it because we’re keeping it under wraps for now. So it got misconstrued,” Beca says, tentatively reaching for Chloe’s hand. Chloe doesn’t pull away, but she’s still skeptical.

“I love you and only you, Chlo,” Beca tells her, squeezing her hand. “Please believe me.” She stares directly into Chloe’s eyes as she says this, something Chloe knows is difficult for her to do.

“I believe you,” Chloe says, deflating. Now that the anxiety’s gone, she feels terribly guilty. “I’m sorry I accused you of cheating on me.”

“That’s okay,” Beca says, cupping Chloe’s cheeks, rising on her toes and planting a kiss on her lips. “I know how you can make it up to me.”

“How?” Chloe asks, hands automatically finding Beca’s waist.

“Take your clothes off,” Beca says, her voice low.

Chloe doesn’t have to be asked twice.

“Done.”


	160. Chapter 160

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a Bechloe fic where one or both are bikers, extremely hot looking bikers?

Chloe has a motorcycle.

Chloe doesn’t just have a motorcycle—she has a big-ass Harley  _and_ a leather jacket.

When Chloe said she’d pick her up on her “bike,” this is  _not_ what Beca expected.

 _Why_  didn’t anyone tell Beca this beforehand?

“You have a motorcycle,” Beca says dumbly.

“Yep,” Chloe says, pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair.

“Since when do you have a motorcycle?” Beca asks. She’s still standing in the middle of her driveway, not making any movement towards Chloe or the bike.

She has to process this.

“Since…” Chloe thinks for a moment. “I was twenty, I think.”

“And you didn’t tell me this?” Now Beca does walk over, running her hand over the smooth metal frame. She tries to avoid actually looking  _at_ Chloe—because she might be able to handle Chloe on a motorcycle and Chloe in a leather jacket separately, but not at the same time.

Chloe laughs. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was important information.”

Beca glances up at her briefly. “ _Dude_ ,” she says, “it’s always important information.”

Chloe grins and tosses her hair over her shoulder. Beca has to look away, because she’s pretty sure her face is rapidly turning red.

It isn’t until Chloe asks, “So, are you ready to go, or…?” that Beca realizes that she’s been staring at her feet for a full minute, telling herself to stop perving on her best friend.

“Yeah!” Beca says, a little too loudly and enthusiastically.

There’s just one issue. 

She has to get  _on_ the bike. Behind Chloe. With her arms wrapped around her.

“Beca?” Chloe looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

Gingerly, Beca swings her leg over the seat and settles herself onto it. “This is, like, safe, right?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe says over her shoulder. “Just hang on.”

“Okay,” Beca says as Chloe revs the motor.

Oh, fuck.

Beca forgot what nice stomach muscles Chloe has.


	161. Chapter 161

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you think u could do a little follow up of the aftermath (of the Beale-Mitchell girls on their periods)? possibly them trying to make it up to Justin for being so hard on him?

Justin’s never seen a hurricane or a tornado, but he imagines that this is what the aftermath is like—the initial whirlwind has passed, and the victims fully realize what just happened.

Maybe comparing his mothers and sisters to a natural disaster is a bit dramatic, but he’s pretty sure that anyone who has had to deal with five hormonal women at the same time would agree.

He’s almost afraid to get out of bed on Saturday morning; the chaos usually only lasts three or four days, but he’s still wary.

But something smells like pancakes, so he cautiously heads downstairs and into the kitchen.

He’s surprised by the peaceful sight: Chloe is standing at the stove, spatula in hand; Beca is thumbing through her phone with one hand while stuffing cereal into her mouth with the other. Emily is sitting at the island eating pancakes.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Chloe chirps when Justin walks in.

“Hi,” Justin says carefully, like any sudden sounds or movements will upset the environment.

“I’m making pancakes,” Chloe says, flipping a few onto a plate. “You want some?”

“Sure,” Justin says, taking the plate and sitting next to Emily.

“Do you have any plans today?” Emily asks him.

“Uh,” Justin says, surprised at the question, “I don’t think so.”

“We were thinking we could go see a movie and then get ice cream,” Emily says. “If you want to come?”

“Who’s we?” Justin asks.

“Me, your mom, and your sisters,” Beca chimes in, her mouth full. 

“What movie?” Justin doesn’t particularly feel like sitting through some sappy chick-flick.

“You can pick,” Emily says with a smile before turning back to her pancakes.

Justin stares at her for a moment; he feels like there should be some sort of catch. “Really?”

“Really,” Chloe affirms, flipping over a pancake. “So, do you want to come?”

“Um, sure,” Justin says, smiling tentatively.

“Great!” Chloe says, gliding across the kitchen to plant a kiss on his head. “We’re leaving at noon.”

“Okay,” Justin says.

And then he silently prays that his family can keep their shit together while they’re out in public.


	162. Chapter 162

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I didn't get to say that I love her" "Chloe what are you talking about?" "I usually wake up every time she leaves for a long distance trip and I would make breakfast and we would argue which clothes she should wear on the flight and I'd kiss her and I'd say I love her every time but I was just so tired from the workload this past few weeks that I woke up late and she had already gone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death.

It’s very surreal, losing someone close to you.

Chloe keeps forgetting—she’ll go to text Beca a picture of a cute dog she met on the street, or she’ll hang up two towels in the bathroom, or she’ll wait to eat dinner until Beca comes home.

It’s nearly nine o’clock when she remembers that Beca isn’t coming home.

Chloe dreams that Beca is still here with her—she dreams of Beca’s good-morning kisses and the way her fingers felt against Chloe’s skin and the snort she made when she wanted to laugh but was trying not to.

It’s torture, and more often than not Chloe wakes up with tears on her cheeks and a sharp pain in her chest. But even more painful to think about is the dreams fading away, because that’s the only place where she can still run her fingers through Beca’s hair and kiss her like it’s their last day on Earth.

Sometimes she wishes they had gone together.

Other nights she dreams about the truck that plowed head-on into Beca’s car, killing her on impact. She dreams of the few seconds that probably felt like years between when Beca spotted the truck hurtling at her and the crash. She dreams about Beca’s battered body, pulled from her totaled car.

Chloe still hasn’t been able to make herself get behind the wheel.

Stacie has been her rock. Normally, Chloe would have turned to Aubrey for support, but her best friend is halfway across the country, and Chloe needs a tangible shoulder to cry on. 

Stacie is one of the only Bellas who stayed near Atlanta, and she has been amazing, bringing Chloe food and texting her to remind her to shower or eat. On particularly bad days, she spends the night on Chloe’s couch.

Sometimes they talk about Beca, trading memories or looking through old photos. (Chloe hasn’t yet been able to listen to Beca’s mixes.)

“I didn’t get to say that I love her,” Chloe says one afternoon, interrupting the silence in which they had been sipping tea at Chloe’s kitchen table.

“Chloe, what are you talking about?” Stacie asks, putting down her mug.

“I usually woke up every time Beca would leave for a long distance trip,” Chloe explains quietly, trailing a finger around the rim of her mug. “And I would make breakfast and we would argue which clothes she should wear on the flight and I’d kiss her and I’d say I love her every time.” She takes a ragged breath. “But I was just so tired from the workload the past few weeks that I woke up late and she had already gone.”

Chloe feels something wet hit her hand; she touches her face and realizes that she’s crying.

“Chloe,” Stacie says gently, taking her hand, “Beca knew that you loved her.”

“I know,” Chloe says, sniffling. “I just wish I had told her again before she left.”

Stacie doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Let’s go tell her now.”

“What?” Chloe hasn’t been to visit Beca’s grave since the funeral; she doesn’t think she can handle the words “In Loving Memory” etched into the stone above Beca’s name. It’ll make everything feel too real—to permanent.

“Let’s go see Beca,” Stacie says, squeezing Chloe’s hand. She senses Chloe’s hesitation and adds, “We’ll get flowers, and you can tell her that you love her. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Chloe thinks back to the last words she said to Beca: A grumbled, “Turn off the damn laptop and go to sleep.” 

She  _needs_ tell Beca she loves her—that her loss cuts Chloe to the core, that she cries herself to sleep every night in her empty bed.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees finally.

She’s not sure if she’s really ready, but it’s about time that she at least pretends that she is.


	163. Chapter 163

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Emily loses Chloes yellow cup (the one she loves) and Beca takes the blame for it but when Emily confesses later to Chloe, beca then gets a huge apology (diner, ice cream sundae - or you can choose)

Beca always jokes that she has two kids—Emily and Chloe’s yellow cup.

Seriously, Chloe carries that thing around like it’s a baby; frankly, Beca’s surprised that Chloe doesn’t stick a baby monitor in the cabinet next to it at night.

Beca doesn’t really understand the attachment to the cup, but she doesn’t particularly want to see what will happen if something were to happen to it, so she’s very careful that no harm comes.

So when she notices that the cup isn’t in its designated spot in their cabinet, Beca starts to panic.

“Em?” she calls.

“Yeah?” Emily comes around the corner into the kitchen, her socks sliding on the hardwood floor.

“Have you seen Mom’s cup? The yellow one?” she asks.

It’s probably nothing; maybe Chloe took it to work with her. That wouldn’t be totally unusual.

The guilty look on Emily’s face tells her that it isn’t nothing. 

“Emily,” Beca says, her stomach fluttering nervously.

“All of the other cups were in the dishwasher,” Emily says defensively, shifting from foot to foot.

“Where’s the cup?” Beca asks.

“I lost it,” Emily admits in a small voice. “Are you mad?”

Before Beca can answer, the front door opens.

“I’m home!” Chloe walks into the kitchen and drops her keys onto the table. She makes a beeline for the cabinets, and Beca twists her hands together anxiously. Chloe always makes herself an iced tea in her yellow cup after work.

“Where’s my cup?” Chloe asks after a moment of searching.

Emily glances at Beca, looking scared. “I—”

“I lost it,” Beca says before Emily can incriminate herself. 

Chloe turns around. “What do you mean, you lost it?” she says slowly, crossing her arms. 

“I…” Beca’s brain scrambles to come up with a lie. “The other cups were in the dishwasher, so I took my coffee in it to work. I must have misplaced it. I’m sorry.”

Emily looks at her with wide eyes, but doesn’t say anything.

“You lost my cup,” Chloe says, her eyes hard. “You lost my favorite cup.”

“Uh, yeah,” Beca says, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Chloe growls. “I can’t believe you would be so irresponsible!”

Beca looks at the floor. She does feel vaguely guilty despite the fact that she isn’t the one who lost the cup.

Chloe shakes her head, like she’s so overwhelmed with Beca’s carelessness that she can’t form words. “I can’t even—” she says, shaking her head again and storming out of the kitchen.

Beca sighs and presses a kiss to Emily’s head before heading to her closet-turned-office to get some work done.

* * *

Emily knocks lightly at the door a few hours later. “Mommy?”

“Yeah, Em?” Beca slides her headphones off of her ears. 

“Dinner,” Emily says simply before turning and walking in the direction of the kitchen.

Beca stands and stretches before dragging herself down the hall, trying to prepare herself for the tension that’s sure to hang over the table.

She’s stunned to see her favorite dinner spread out on the table—chicken and broccoli alfredo and garlic bread.

“Chlo, you made all this?” Beca asks, confused. Chloe seemed pretty pissed just a few hours ago.

“Emily told me she was the one who lost the cup,” Chloe explains, looking embarrassed and guilty. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s okay,” Beca tells her, closing her eyes for a moment as she inhales the scent of the food.

“No, I was really rude to you,” Chloe says, coming over to wrap her arms around Beca’s waist. “Can you forgive me?”

Chloe’s eyes never fail to make butterflies erupt in Beca’s stomach, even after all of these years. “Of course,” she says softly.

Chloe grins and presses a kiss to Beca’s lips. “I love you,” she says. 

“I love you, too.” Beca rests her forehead against Chloe’s.

“Get a room,” Emily grumbles from her seat at the table.


	164. Chapter 164

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe being less confident in the bedroom, because despite her confident exterior she’s very insecure & emotionally stunted. She has a praise kink because she’s desperate for approval, but at the same time it’s hard for her to accept. Leading to the need for a submissive role with Beca (doesn’t have to be super heavy). I like the idea of Beca taking care of her in every way. Even treating Chloe like she’s hers in more ways than one. I imagine that she likes to dote and spoil her.

Chloe is a very confident person. 

She’s the one who always grabs Beca’s hand, or kisses her in public, or strikes up a conversation with a stranger in a store.

So when Chloe hesitates as Beca goes to unclasp her bra, Beca is a little confused.

“You okay, Chlo?” Beca asks, hands stilling.

Chloe looks at her hesitantly. “Yeah,” she says, but she doesn’t sound terribly convincing, “just a little nervous,”

Beca is surprised, but she tries not to let it show on her face. Instead, she kisses Chloe sweetly, whispering, “Don’t worry; you’re beautiful,” against her lips.

Chloe’s eyes flutter closed and she leans into the touch, letting Beca peel away their remaining layers of clothing. 

Beca lowers herself on top of Chloe carefully, kissing her way down Chloe’s neck and chest, over her breasts and down her stomach, past her hips and down her thighs. She brushes her fingertips over Chloe’s nipples, reaching up a hand to smooth Chloe’s hair out of her eyes when she arches her back.

Beca kisses every tiny scar and stretch mark on Chloe’s flawless body; “You’re gorgeous,” Beca tells her once she’s appreciated every one.

Chloe shivers, her hand tightening its hold on Beca’s hair.

Beca positions her hand at the apex of Chloe’s thighs, glancing up at Chloe. “You ready?” she asks, and when Chloe nods, she eases her hand between Chloe’s legs.

Beca moves her fingers rhythmically, slowing building up speed until Chloe’s muscles go taut and she cries out. It’s the most beautiful thing Beca’s ever seen, and she keeps moving until the tension leaves Chloe’s body before crawling up to wrap Chloe into her arms.

“I love you,” Beca whispers, one hand on Chloe’s heaving chest, feeling the flutter of her heartbeat under her palm. 

“I love you, too,” Chloe says sleepily, nuzzling into the crook of Beca’s neck.

They fall asleep that way, the steady sound of Chloe’s breathing lulling Beca to sleep, and Beca can’t think of a better way to spend her evening.


	165. Chapter 165

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on "Stay" by SafetySuit

Beca has a short temper. She gets frustrated easily. She gets defensive quickly.

It’s almost like there’s a disconnect between Beca’s brain and her mouth; she never talks about what she’s feeling, instead bottling it up until she lashes out at somebody.

(And by “somebody,” Chloe means herself.)

It’s hard to know exactly what sets Beca off, because usually by the time she explodes, it’s several days after whatever made her angry happen.

It’s actually a little nerve-wracking, but Beca swears she’s working on it. Chloe believes her; Beca’s starting to talk about her feelings, but she still sometimes snaps at Chloe when she’s particularly stressed.

Chloe just has to be patient.

It’s still really difficult to hear when Beca growls, “God, Chloe, could you be any more  _annoying_?” when Chloe simply asks her what she’s working on.

Chloe reels back, mouth opening to fire back a retort. She catches herself, though, and takes several deep breaths. “Beca, it hurts my feelings when you talk to me that way.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t bug me, then,” Beca mutters. Her eyes are still on her laptop, but she looks slightly like she feels guilty. 

That’s another thing about Beca—she’s never one to admit she’s wrong; she’s rarely the first to apologize.

“Beca,” Chloe says again, “what’s wrong?”

Beca’s eyes flit up to hers, and she looks like she’s debating whether to actually answer the question. Finally, she sighs. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “My boss doesn’t like my mash-ups. He wants to hear original work, and I don’t”—Beca scrunches her hands in her hair frustratedly—”I can’t come up with anything.” She looks down at her hands. “Maybe I just don’t have anything original to say.”

Chloe sits down next to Beca and wraps an arm around her. “You’re, like, the most talented person I know,” she says. “You’re going to come up with something fantastic, and I’m going to help you.”

Beca looks up at her. “Really?”

“Really.”

* * *

Chloe wakes up the next morning to find a steaming mug of tea on her nightstand next to a scrap of paper.

_Sorry for being a dick. -Beca_


	166. Chapter 166

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write a fic on how you envision PP3 would be if you had the power to write the script and direct the film?

Bringing the Bellas anywhere is a guarantee that things are gonna get a little crazy.

Bringing the Bellas to an event with alcohol—like a wedding—and it’s gonna be a shitshow.

Frankly, Beca’s surprised that they made it through the entire ceremony without any sort of interruption.

Cynthia Rose and her fiancée—well, her wife, now—both looked stunning, and their vows were heartfelt and sweet. (Beca  _definitely_ didn’t tear up—there must of a lot of dust in the church or something. Or maybe she’s allergic to Maine.)

The reception, though, is another story.

So far, Amy has fallen face-first into the chocolate fountain, and Aubrey has had to physically stop Bumper from licking the chocolate off of Amy’s face. Stacie has whipped off her underwear on the dance floor, and Benji knocked over the ice sculpture trying to show Emily some magic trick.

Beca tries to keep one eye on Lilly, just to make sure nothing goes up in flames. 

Chloe is a separate issue.

She’s practically sitting in Beca’s lap, and Beca’s had to forcibly remove her hand from underneath her dress no less than seven times. 

Apparently, someone couldn’t even wait until after the toasts to get tipsy.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Chloe breathes into Beca’s ear halfway through Cynthia Rose’s dad’s speech, her hand inching dangerously high on her thigh.

“Chloe, no,” Beca whispers. “Not now.”

“Why not?” Chloe’s breath tickles Beca’s ear, and she shivers.

“I am not going to sneak off to the bathroom for a quickie in the middle of Mr. Adams’s speech because you can’t keep it in your pants,” Beca hisses.

“I’m wearing a dress,” Chloe says, like that’ll change Beca’s mind.

“Not the point.” Beca pries Chloe’s hand off of her leg and replaces it into Chloe’s lap.

Chloe makes a  _hmph_  noise and keeps her hands to herself for a whopping ten  minutes before they start to wander again while Cynthia Rose’s grandmother is speaking.

“Chloe,” Beca says warningly. 

“What?” Chloe asks innocently, leaning in to tongue Beca’s neck in a way that is probably  _very_ unsubtle and totally inappropriate. 

“Stop it,” Beca says, but her eyes flutter shut and she tilts her head to the side to allow Chloe easier access. 

Chloe’s fingers drift higher, brushing against the front of Beca’s underwear.

Beca moans—loudly—before she can stop herself.

Beca’s eyes fly open in horror; several people are giving her strange looks, and Aubrey is giving her a death glare that could kill ten people.

Beca coughs awkwardly, taking a sip of her water and hoping that people will just politely ignore it.

She’ll have to remember to avoid Cynthia Rose’s grandmother for the rest of her life.


	167. Chapter 167

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been dying for a Bechloe night swimming fic. Ever since I saw the full deleted Chloe scene and the Digging For Fire trailer I can't get it out of my head.

This is probably a bad idea.

It’s not their house, for one thing—well, technically it doesn’t belong to the Trebles, either. It belongs to Barden. But Beca’s pretty sure this breaks  _some_ sort of rule.

They’re also not wearing bathing suits. When Beca points this out, Chloe’s response is to immediately strip down to her underwear.

Beca finds it difficult to argue after that.

“Why are we doing this again?” Beca asks, looking over her shoulder at the house for the thousandth time.

“Night swimming is the best kind of swimming,” Chloe says simply, diving into the pool.

Beca actually thinks that the best kind of swimming is the kind where she sits on dry land and watches  _Chloe_ swim, but Chloe insists.

“Take off your clothes,” is actually what she says, and Beca reluctantly complies—she’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs; Chloe tells her to do something and Beca immediately does it.

Very carefully, she slips into the pool and stands in the shallow end with her arms crossed over her chest. She still feels vaguely uncomfortable being naked in front of Chloe, so being in nothing but her underwear in someone else’s backyard where  _anyone could come out and see them_ makes her nervous.

“Come here,” Chloe says, gesturing for Beca to move closer.

Beca’s never been a very good swimmer—her parents stopped forcing her to take lessons once she could swim well enough to keep herself from drowning. Awkwardly, she doggy-paddles over to Chloe, who’s leisurely treading water in the middle of the pool.

Chloe looks so pretty, her face illuminated by the moonlight. Beca watches the droplets of water slide down over her shoulders and collarbones.

“Bec?”

“Huh?”

“My eyes are up here.”

“Sorry.” Beca flushes and snaps her eyes back up to Chloe’s face.

Chloe has a predatory glint in her eye, and she surges forward and kisses Beca hard on the mouth.

Beca can’t even walk and chew gum at the same time, much less swim and try to kiss her girlfriend. She drops under the water, popping back up a second later, sputtering.

“Fuck, sorry!” Chloe says as Beca coughs.

“It’s okay,” Beca gasps out. She swims back over to where she can stand, and Chloe follows.

Chloe has the decency to wait until Beca can breathe again before pinning her to the wall of the pool, pressing their lips back together. Her hands wander over Beca’s torso, her fingertips edging against the underside of Beca’s bra.

“Chloe, we are in public,” Beca reminds her between kisses, but Chloe makes no motion of stopping.

“I don’t care,” Chloe says, one hand skipping along the inside of Beca’s thigh, and Beca inhales sharply.

Suddenly, the light over the back door flips on.

“Shit!” Beca says, scrambling out of the pool. Chloe follows, and they duck behind the nearest bush.

The door opens, and Jesse’s head pops out.

He probably wouldn’t care that they crashed the Trebles’ pool uninvited, but he  _definitely_ would never let Beca hear the end of it if he caught them. 

Beca holds her breath as Jesse takes a step outside, looking around. It feels like years before he shrugs and heads back inside the house.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Beca hisses once the door closes. “Can we leave now?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Chloe says, standing up and walking over to her clothes. “But you have to shower with me.”

Beca doesn’t have to be told twice.


	168. Chapter 168

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering if maybe you could do a thing were Chloe is totally into Beca and they make out a couple times unexpectedly here and there. Beca wants to take it to the next level but Chloe is scared so Beca starts to grow feelings for Aubrey (like serious feelings) and they start dating. Chloe is extremely jealous and hurt and depressed but acts like she supports them to not lose them.

Chloe’s always hated the phrase “you snooze, you lose.”

She takes a long time to make decisions; she always has. Even as a child, she’d spend so long mulling over ice cream flavors that her parents would get impatient and order for her.

One of her high school flings told her that she has “commitment issues,” and maybe that’s true. Maybe she’s afraid of regretting her choice; maybe she’s afraid of screwing things up.

She’s definitely screwed up here, though—big time.

It started at a party at the Trebles’ house. Chloe had been drunk, and Beca had been drunker; they’d made out in the backyard, Beca’s back pressed up against the siding of the pool shed.

Chloe had assumed Beca wouldn’t remember, or would just brush it off as a drunken mistake. But then Beca kissed her again—on a Tuesday after practice, when they were both very much sober.

Chloe has always liked Beca. It’s not like it was a secret; it was painfully obvious to everyone—except maybe Beca.

Which is why it hurts even more that Aubrey would say yes when Beca asked her out.

It’s entirely Chloe’s fault, though, so she supposes she can’t really be angry.

Chloe doesn’t know why she’d been scared to say yes when Beca had wanted more. What she’d told Beca is that she didn’t want to ruin their friendship—which is true, but it wasn’t the whole reason. She’s not even completely sure why she said no—it just felt like things were happening too fast, and Chloe balked.

Chloe has  _no_  idea where the feelings for Aubrey came from, but that’s probably because she and Beca don’t talk like they used to anymore.

(Chloe suspects that’s her fault, too.)

She’s not even going to pretend she isn’t jealous—she  _is_  jealous, painfully so. She’s so jealous that it hurts to breathe when Chloe sees them together. She cries herself to sleep some nights, thoughts about what could have been hers haunting her in her dreams.

On the one occasion Beca had tried to talk to Chloe about Aubrey, Chloe had felt like she was going to throw up. When Beca left, Chloe sobbed silently into her pillow, curling in on herself.

It’s hard to plaster a smile on her face and pretend to be supportive when inside she feels like screaming, but Chloe can’t bear to lose her best friends, even if it hurts. Even if she feels betrayed. Even if it makes her want to punch a wall.

She figures she deserves it, anyway.


	169. Chapter 169

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe's adventures as they raise their three sons.

hloe always thought that she would have girls.

She always thought that she would buy them pink dresses and braid their hair. She always thought that she would sign them up for ballet and singing lessons. She always thought that she would take them out for spa days and mani-pedis (because Beca won’t go with her).

So having three boys is a bit of a shock.

Instead, Chloe buys blue t-shirts and toy trucks and spends her time scrubbing grass and dirt stains out of clothing. She asks her dad to teach her how to throw a football (and then teaches Beca). She drives to baseball and basketball practices and tacks little hand-written reminders on the walls of the bathrooms to remind the boys to put the toilet seats down.

Beca doesn’t seem very fazed; her reaction when they had found out they were having  _another_  son was—and Chloe quotes—"Okay, cool.“

Beca can barely run ten steps without tripping over her own feet, and she still screams when she sees a spider and feels faint at the sight of blood. But she kicks a soccer ball around the backyard with the boys, and digs in the dirt with them, and hangs their drawings of deformed dinosaurs in her office at work.

Jesse is a huge help.

When each of the boys starts showing the first signs of puberty, Beca hands Jesse a $20 bill and sends them out for ice cream for “the talk.” The day their oldest comes home and announces that he has “a girlfriend,” Beca drives him straight to Jesse’s. Jesse takes the boys on day trips and overnights and, on one occasion, goes to a parent-teacher conference when Beca gets hung up at work and Chloe suddenly gets sick.

It seems only fitting that when Jesse and Aubrey finally pop out a baby girl, Beca and Chloe are the godparents.


	170. Chapter 170

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write one where Stacie is helping Beca propose to Chloe, and Aubrey is helping Chloe propose at the same time?

Beca’s not good at this stuff—the romantic stuff. The sappy stuff. The stuff that extends beyond a store-bought card and a box of chocolate.

She probably shouldn’t have asked Stacie, because Stacie has all of these  _ideas_  that are wholly unrealistic or wildly expensive.

“What if you got one of those airplanes that writes stuff in the sky?” Stacie asks, meticulously running a file over her nails, her feet propped up on Beca’s coffee table. “It can say, ‘Will you marry me Chloe?’”

“How much would that cost?” Beca says.

Stacie shrugs. “Ooh!” she says, her eyes lighting up. “What about a flash mob?”

“Where am I supposed to get a bunch of people to make one?” Beca asks, winding and unwinding the cord of her headphones around her index finger. “And the choreography bit sounds like a lot of work.”

“You’re  _supposed_  to be putting effort into this, Beca,” Stacie tells her, sounding annoyed. “It doesn’t count if it’s easy.”

“I don’t think that’s how this works,” Beca says, and Stacie shoots her a look.

Maybe she should just keep things simple.

* * *

This is stressful.

“Do you think she’d like something flashy?” Chloe asks, pacing back and forth across the carpet in Aubrey’s living room. “Or would that make her uncomfortable?”

“I think Beca would appreciate the effort of something flashy,” Aubrey says, chin propped on her hand, “but she might prefer something low-key.”

“What would you do if you were proposing to Stacie?” Chloe says. 

Aubrey flushes a little, and she ducks her head in the bashful way she does whenever she talks about Stacie. “I think I’d just keep it simple,” she says, shrugging. “Maybe a nice dinner and a walk through the park where I’d pop the question. Or something.”

Clearly she’s thought about this a lot, but Chloe doesn’t comment on it, because Aubrey is very guarded when it comes to her relationship with Stacie.

“That doesn’t sound like a terrible idea,” Chloe agrees, pausing in her pacing to really think it through.

“Gee, thanks,” Aubrey drawls. 

“I have dinner plans to make,” Chloe announces, heading into the kitchen where she’s left her phone on the counter.

She’s going to nail this.

* * *

Beca is surprised when Chloe says she’s made a reservation at a fancy restaurant “just because,” but Beca had been planning on doing the same thing, so it works in her favor.

They have a lovely dinner. Beca’s heart flutters whenever Chloe looks into her eyes; suddenly, Beca can’t wait to watch Chloe float down the aisle in a white dress.

Chloe suggests they take a stroll through the park afterwards, and Beca agrees. She might be completely inept at romance, but she can still feel the romantic vibes.

They settle on a bench, and Beca takes a few deep breaths before speaking.

“Chlo?”

“Yeah?” Chloe turns to look at her.

“I love you,” Beca says, momentarily distracted by the emotion in Chloe’s eyes. 

“I love you, too,” Chloe echoes, briefly brushing her hand over Beca’s cheek.

“And you make me so happy. I’m so lucky to have you,” Beca says quietly. She doesn’t like being vulnerable, or saying the clichéd cheesy romantic lines, but she wants Chloe to now how special she is.

“You, too,” Chloe says. “You make me happier than anyone else.”

“As do you,” Beca says, reaching into her clutch. 

“I love you,” Chloe says again, and when Beca looks up, Chloe’s sunk to one knee in front of the bench. “And I want to spend the rest of my life falling asleep in your arms and waking up to your beautiful face.”

Wait a second.

“Beca Mitchell, will you marry me?”

“Wait, what?”

It’s an inappropriate response, but Beca’s surprised and confused. When Chloe’s face falls, Beca rushes to explain.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” Beca says, grabbing Chloe’s hand. She gets a big grin for that one. “I just… I was about to do the same thing.” She fishes the ring box out of her clutch.

“Oh,” Chloe says, the corners of her mouth twitching.

Beca can’t hold it in; she starts to laugh, too. Pretty soon they’re both cracking up—they must look incredibly odd.

“We’re getting married,” Beca gasps out as the giggles subside.

“We’re getting married,” Chloe echoes.


	171. Chapter 171

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Bechloe take care of a teenage aca-child while she is sick? Fluff x 1000

Emily is obsessed with school.

Chloe has to practically sit on top of her and force her to stay home when she wakes up with a fever.

Beca’s glad she enjoys it, but she doesn’t understand what could be so great about the place. Any other teenager would be thrilled to have a legitimate excuse to take the day off.

So now she has to deal with a grumpy, annoyed Emily on top of a sick Emily.

Beca’s never been good with bodily fluids of any kind, snot included, so she tries to stay as far away from Emily’s room as possible—but Chloe isn’t having it.

“Bec, can you go check on Em?” Chloe asks her from the kitchen.

“No thanks,” Beca calls back. She hears a huff of breath, then footsteps before Chloe appears in the threshold of the living room.

“Please go check on Emily,” Chloe says, slowly and evenly.

“Can’t you do it?” Beca asks, putting on her best puppy-dog face (the one Chloe always uses to get what she wants).

“I’m busy,” Chloe says.

“Doing what?”

“Making soup.” Chloe jerks a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. 

“You know you can just buy that, right?” Beca says.

Chloe rolls her eyes, turning to walk away. “Go check on Em.”

Beca groans—loudly—to let Chloe know she’s displeased before heading upstairs. She nudges Emily’s bedroom door open with her toe and pokes her head inside. There’s a lump under the blanket on the bed that is probably Emily, but could very well be a pile of dirty laundry.

“Em?”

Emily’s head pops out from under the blanket. Her nose is red and her forehead is sweaty, and there’s a small mountain of tissues on her nightstand next to an empty glass. “Yeah?” she says, her voice nasal and congested-sounding.

“Just making sure you’re not, like, dead,” Beca tells her. She’s trying to breathe in as little as the infected air as possible.

“I’m not.” Emily wipes back the hair stuck to her forehead.

“Do you need anything?” Beca asks. “Your mom is making you soup.”

“No, thanks,” Emily says, although it sounds more like “bo, thabks.”

Beca bolts back downstairs, going directly into the kitchen to wash her hands.

“She’s alive and doesn’t need anything,” Beca says to Chloe’s questioning look.

“Okay,” Chloe says.

* * *

“Bob?”

Beca looks around for a moment, confused, before she realizes that Emily is yelling “mom.” (For someone with congestion and a sore throat, she sure is loud.)

Maybe if Beca sits very still and doesn’t breathe for a minute Chloe won’t notice—

“Bec?”

“I’m going,” Beca mutters, heaving herself off of the couch. “What’s up?” she asks Emily when she gets to her room.

“Can I have more orange juice?” Emily drags the back of her hand across her nose in a way that makes Beca shudder.

“Sure,” Beca says, gingerly picking up the glass from the nightstand between two fingers. 

She washes her hands in water as hot as she can stand it for a full minute after.

* * *

“Bob?”

“I’m coming,” Beca yells back, not even bothering to wait for Chloe to ask her to go. “What is it?”

“I’m bored,” Emily says.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Beca asks. Emily has her phone, her laptop, books, and her homework all within arm’s reach.

“Will you watch a bovie with me?”

“Can’t you watch it by yourself?” Beca says—of course at the exact moment Chloe happens to be walking by with a basket of laundy.

“Beca,” Chloe chastises, giving Beca one of her  _looks_.

“Uh, what movie do you wanna watch?” Beca asks, sitting on the farthest possible end of Emily’s bed.

“Cobe here,” Emily says, patting her pillows and putting her computer in front of her.

Chloe is still watching from the door, so Beca reluctantly settles herself beside Emily as she queues up a movie on Netflix.

Of course Emily puts her head on Beca’s shoulder, too.

* * *

Beca wakes up with a headache and a sore throat.

_Fuckfuckfuck_ , Beca thinks, panicked. She opens her mouth to call out to Chloe (well, to  _yell at_  Chloe) but what comes out is several sneezes in rapid succession.

Chloe must hear her, though, because she comes out of the master bathroom. “Oh, Bec,” she says, rushing over and pressing the back of her hand to Beca’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Dis is your fault!” Beca tries to shout, but it comes out more as an aggressive croak.

Chloe just raises an eyebrow coolly. “Does that mean you don’t want some soup?”

Beca looks away. “No,” she says after a moment.

“That’s what I thought,” Chloe says, planting a kiss on Beca’s head before leaving the room.

Beca groans and flops back against her pillow.

She hates her wife sometimes.


	172. Chapter 172

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you please do a prompt where Chloe is a new teacher and Beca is a senior and they get super close throughout the year and then admit their love for one another but have to wait until after graduation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed this slightly because I’m uncomfortable with writing romantic relationships with inherent power imbalances.

Beca must be hallucinating.

Either that, or this scotch isn’t as watered down as she had initially thought.

It can’t be Miss Beale that she’s seeing in the dumpy bar a block away from her apartment.

Miss Beale—her high school history teacher. The hottest high school history teacher ever to exist. The woman she  _may_ or may not have spent her entire senior year fantasizing about.

Beca had always suspected that Miss Beale had at least minor romantic feelings for her, although she could never be sure that it was a reasonable hunch or just her being stupidly hopeful.

They’d spent a lot of time together that year, although no lines had ever been crossed—Beca would eat lunch in her classroom and they’d talk about the stupid boy in Beca’s geometry class who taps his pencil incessantly or Miss Beale’s new puppy tearing up her apartment. There were lingering looks, touches on arms that lasted a bit too long—but above all, Beca felt like they’d connected intellectually.

Or maybe it i _s_ Miss Beale, because those blue eyes zero in on Beca and then light up before she rushes over and engulfs Beca into a hug.

“Beca Mitchell!” Miss Beale exclaims, briefly squishing Beca’s cheeks between her hands.

“Miss Beale,” Beca says when she lets go, her skin burning.

“Please, call me Chloe,” Miss Beale— _Chloe_ says. “How many years has it been since you graduated?”

Beca pretends to think for a moment, even though she knows the answer. “Seven.”

“Wow,” Chloe says, leaning her elbow on the bar and resting her head on her fist. She’s beautiful, even in the dim fluorescent lighting. “Can I buy you a drink?” she asks, and is Beca imagining things, or did her gaze flick down to Beca’s lips?

“Um, sure,” Beca agrees. 

It can’t hurt, right?

* * *

Beca’s not sure how many drinks she’s had, but her lips are tingling and sometimes there are three Chloes sitting in front of her.

She can officially cross “get drunk with your teacher from high school” off of her bucket list.

“Y’know,” Chloe says, her words starting to slur a bit, “you were my favorite student. Ever.”

“Really?” Beca asks. It’s been years since she was in high school, but she still feels immensely pleased to hear Chloe say this.

“Really,” Chloe confirms. Her hand has been on Beca’s leg for the past twenty minutes, and it’s periodically drifting a bit higher. “And the prettiest.”

Beca blushes, looking away from the intensity of Chloe’s stare. “Really?” she asks again, softer this time.

Chloe nods. She looks at Beca for a long moment. “You had a crush on me in high school,” she says, matter-of-factly, leaving little room for debate.

Beca is taken aback; she’d thought she’d hidden it pretty well. “Yeah,” Beca says, because she’s too drunk to care.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Chloe asks, leaning in close enough for Beca to smell her perfume and the alcohol on her breath. “I liked you, too.”

“Oh,” Beca says. Her heart rate picks up, all of the thoughts she thought she’d long since let go of flooding back into her mind.

None of them live up to the real deal, though—because Chloe surges forward and kisses Beca  _hard,_ hands gripping in Beca’s shirt.

Chloe nearly topples them off of their stools; she puts a steadying hand on the bar as they part.

“Oh,” Beca repeats—she doesn’t know what else to say when Chloe Beale is sitting in front of her drunk, with tousled hair and swollen lips.

Chloe stares at her for a moment before asking, “D’you want to get out of here?”

It’s the best idea Beca’s heard all day.


	173. Chapter 173

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Chloe or Beca walks in on the other cheating? Whether they make up or not is up to you.

Beca wants to surprise Chloe.

She’s back from LA a couple of days early because one of the artists she was supposed to work with canceled.

Beca’s away a lot, splitting her time between Residual Heat’s Los Angeles and Atlanta locations; it’s hard on Chloe, Beca knows. So she picks up some flowers and Chinese take-out on her way home from the airport and tiptoes into her apartment.

She nearly trips over a pair of shoes left haphazardly on the floor of the hallway. Beca frowns—those aren’t her shoes, and they aren’t Chloe’s. They’re much to big to belong to either of them, and they’re clearly men’s shoes.

Beca immediately gets nervous, and she wonders if she should call the police.

And then she hears a moan coming from down the hall, and her stomach drops. 

She’d know that sound anywhere—it’s definitely Chloe.

Beca puts the flowers and the food on the kitchen table and walks toward the bedroom, dread piling heavier and heavier inside of her with every step.

She stands with her hand on the knob and her head bowed for several minutes, listening to Chloe’s moans and sighs and the grunts of her partner, trying to gather the courage to open the door.

Like ripping off a Band-Aid, Beca pushes it open in one motion.

And promptly feels like vomiting.

Chloe and some dude with scraggly hair that makes him look homeless are half under the sheets, but are still very clearly naked and very clearly having sex.

Beca must have made some sort of sound, because they both stop their actions and turn to look at her.

Chloe at least has the decency to look horrified, and she shoves the guy off of her and sits up, holding the sheet up to her chest protectively. “Beca, I—”

“Don’t even,” Beca says, holding up a hand. Her voice is hoarse and raw, and she figures she must have screamed.

Chloe snaps her mouth shut, looking at the floor. Then she turns to the guy. “You need to leave,” she tells him.

“But—”

“ _Go_ ,” Chloe cuts him off sharply.

Beca watches as the guy quickly steps back into his boxers and pants, picking his shirt up off of the floor and slinks out of the room.

Beca and Chloe stare at each other in silence.

“Why?” Beca whispers after a moment. “Can you just…” Her voice breaks. “Can you just tell me why?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe says, a tear leaking out of her eye. “You were gone, and I—” She cuts herself off and doesn’t finish the sentence.

“How long?” Beca asks.

“Um,” Chloe hedges, averting her eyes.

“How long, Chloe?” Beca asks again, louder this time.

“Two months,” Chloe admits, so quiet Beca can barely hear her.

Beca buries her hands in her hair, tugging hard at the roots—just to feel some sort of sensation when the rest of her body is numb.

“I think I should leave,” Beca says, almost choking on the words. She waits for Chloe to stop her, to tell Beca that they can make things work. That she wants Beca.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees softly. She doesn’t even try to convince Beca to stay, to fight for Beca.

That hurts most of all.


	174. Chapter 174

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a Bechloe Emily lovechild AU when Beca and Chloe give Emily “the talk”?

This is very weird.

First of all, Beca is  _never_ home when Emily gets home from school. But Emily finds her on the couch in the living room, seated next to Chloe with her hands folded in her lap and an odd look on her face.

“Sit down, Em,” Chloe says when Emily enters the room.

“Did someone die?” is the first concern that comes to mind. “Oh, God, is Nana dead?”

“Nana’s fine, sweetie,” Chloe says.

Emily lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sits down in the recliner. She notices for the first time that there’s a banana on the coffee table, next to a strip of… condoms?

“What is this?” Emily asks nervously.

There’s a moment of silence before Chloe jabs Beca in the side with her elbow. 

“Hey!” Beca protests. “Jeez.” She clears her throat. “Um, Em, you’re in high school now, so it’s time you know.”

“Know what?” Emily asks, confused.

“Where babies come from,” Beca says, looking like the words are physically paining her.

Emily can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “Mom, I  _know_ where babies come from.”

Beca looks taken aback. “What do you mean? Who told you?”

“Bec,” Chloe says softly, placing her hand on Beca’s arm.

“I heard kids at school talking about it,” Emily says. “And… the Internet.”

“What have you been Googling, young lady?” Beca demands, leaning forward.

Chloe pulls her back by the shoulder. “Either way, you need to know how to be safe,” she says, picking up one of the condom packages. “This is a condom. You use it to prevent pregnancy and STDs.”

“I know,” Emily almost says, but she decides against it. Beca might actually have a conniption.

“Now,” Chloe says, ripping open the package and picking up the banana, “make sure you leave some space at the end for when the guy ejaculates; otherwise, the condom can break.”

Emily feels her cheeks heat a bit at her mother so casually talking about…  _that_.

“You put it on like…” Chloe places the condom into her mouth and expertly rolls it onto the banana.

“Chloe, what the fu—” Beca cuts herself off just in time, her face a very unnatural color. “What are you doing?” she hisses.

Chloe blinks innocently. “Showing Emily how to put on a condom.”

“With her  _mouth_?” Beca exclaims, throwing a hand in Emily’s direction. “She’s  _fifteen_.”

“How would  _you_ put it on?” Chloe asks, looking genuinely baffled.

Beca looks like she’s trying not to scream. “You—with your—you use your  _hands,_ Chloe!” Beca stands abruptly and shoves some pamphlets into Emily’s hands. “I need to…” She trails off, shaking her head as she leaves the room.

Emily and Chloe stare at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing.


	175. Chapter 175

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering if you could please write a fic based on the Carrie Underwood song All American Girl where Beca is the football player and Chloe is the girl! It doesn't have to have the song or anything in it, just the storyline!

Football was the most important thing in Beca’s life.

She was good at; she was good enough to get a college scholarship. 

Football  _was_ Beca’s passion, the thing she cared about more than anything else.

And then she met Chloe.

Chloe is beautiful, and smart, and sensitive, and everything Beca needs to complete herself. She can’t get enough of Chloe; spending time with her is addictive.

So what if Beca’s missed a few practices here and there? She’s the star of the team, and a few hours of running drills isn’t gonna make or break her.

The fact that she’s dropped a couple of passes during games has nothing to do with the time she spends with Chloe.

Unfortunately, her father doesn’t see it that way.

“You need to stop spending so much time with Chloe,” he tells her one night over dinner without segue.

“What?” Beca asks, so surprised she drops her fork.

“Your coach called me,” Beca’s dad says seriously, his fingers steepled in from of him, elbows resting on the table. “You’ve been missing practices, fumbling in games, and he says you seem distracted.”

“I’m fine,” Beca says tightly. “Chloe has nothing to do with this.”

“You spend more time with her than you do practicing, Bec,” her dad tells her, his tone stern. “If you keep this up, you could lose your chance at a college scholarship. You need to cut back on your time with Chloe.”

“I won’t miss anymore practices,” Beca promises, “but I’m not giving up Chloe.” She stands abruptly and picks up her plate.

“Beca—”

“No,” Beca says, storming out of the room—and  _okay_ , it’s a  _little_ juvenile, but if her dad thinks she’s going to break up with Chloe he’s delusional.

She’s going to marry that girl someday; she’ll show him.

* * *

When they find out that Chloe is pregnant, the second thought on Beca’s mind is that she can’t wait to shove it in her dad’s face.

(The first one is obviously  _HOLY SHIT WE’RE HAVING A KID_.)

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Chloe asks her late that night, long after Beca had thought she’d fallen asleep.

“I’m okay with either,” Beca says, gently rubbing a hand over Chloe’s stomach, “but I’m hoping for a little girl just like you.”

Chloe turns to look at Beca, and Beca can just make out her soft smile in the darkness. “I love you.”

Beca scoots closer and rests her head on Chloe’s shoulder. “I love you, too.”


	176. Chapter 176

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please do one for Bechloe where they are passionately arguing as friends about their favorite superhero? It would be great if the arguing could stop because one kisses the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I know nothing about superheroes, so I crowdsourced this one.

Beca doesn’t like movies.

She doesn’t like rom-coms, or horror films, or action films or franchise films or even the classics.

But she  _loves_  the Marvel films.

(She still pretends that she’s annoyed at Chloe for dragging her to the movie—she has a reputation to uphold, after all.

Plus, it’s a way to get Chloe to pay for her ticket and popcorn.)

It’s only around 9 pm when they get home, so Beca follows Chloe up to her room for their nightly ritual of watching bad reality television on Chloe’s laptop.

Everything is going just fine until Chloe asks, “Who do you like better—Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Iron Man,” Beca says easily, forgetting her apathetic persona for a moment.

Chloe immediately bristles. “Why?”

“Oh, come on,” Beca says, “don’t tell me you think Captain America is better.” There’s a beat of silence. “Oh, my God, you  _do_!”

“Why, exactly, wouldn’t I?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“Um, because he’s a more credible character,” Beca says, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “He has a personality and his own interests, like every other human being in the world. And he  _still_  manages to care about others’ well-being. That’s a  _real_  superhero, not a robotic being who just cares about a single country.”

“Captain America is patriot of his country,” Chloe counters. “His power is more natural and it’s more serious. He makes everybody trust in his ability. He’s a leader, and plans attacks instead of impulsively going head on like  _Iron Man_.”

“Iron Man has a billionaire lifestyle and is still a philanthropist,“ Beca argues back; she’s nearly shouting now. "He only fights for what he wants, not solely when he’s told to.” 

It’s a  _really_ dumb thing to be arguing about—Beca knows this. But she can’t just let it go.

“Oh, come on,” Chloe yells, throwing her arms out. She’s toe-to-toe with Beca, getting right up in her face. 

 _She’s hot when she’s angry_ , Beca thinks, although this is a really inappropriate time to be having that thought.

 “Iron Man is a selfish narcissist. Plus, without his stupid suit, Captain America would kick his ass,” Chloe continues.

Beca doesn’t have a good counter to her argument, so she settles for a very emphatic, “Shut up!”

“Make me!” Chloe shouts back.

It’s cliché—it’s  _so_ cliché, and Beca kind of hates herself for it, but one second Chloe is yelling in her face and the next Beca is pinning her against the wall, kissing her with fervor.

The argument is forgotten rather quickly after that.


	177. Chapter 177

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Beca sings "Chloe" by Emblem3 to Chloe at the karaoke night with the Bellas. (What triggers her to sing this song is up to you!)

To be clear, Beca didn’t agree to this.

She has a very firm position on karaoke: It’s annoying, and only acceptable when one is drunk.

So Chloe buys her drinks and bugs her every ten minutes about going up to sing.

Beca should know better; she tends to regret every decision she makes when she’s drunk, and the tight, low-cut dress Chloe is wearing is seriously distracting her from any logical capacity she might have left.

When Chloe asks her for the eighteenth time whether Beca’s going to go up and sing, Beca says, “Fine!”

In hindsight, she really shouldn’t have let Stacie pick the song. But Beca’s very pliable when she’s drunk, so she just goes with it.

“This one goes out to Chloe,” Beca slurs into the microphone, “the hottest girl I know. Love you, Chlo.”

Beca would like to formally apologize to everyone who had to listen to her screech out the song, loud and off-key, as she threw vague hand gestures that at the time seemed cool but probably just looked spastic.

 _“Chloe, I know your sister turns everyone on_  
But, oh, baby, I have no doubt you’re the one that I want  
You think she’s got it all but that don’t make her better  
You got my heart and that’s the only thing that matters  
Chloe, I know your sister turns everyone on  
But you’re the one I want  
But you’re the one I want, yeah.”

Chloe has kind of a strange look on her face when Beca dismounts the stage and heads back over to their table. Stacie, Cynthia Rose, and Amy are laughing about something, but Beca ignores them and sits down next to Chloe.

“Happy?” Beca asks as sarcastically as she can muster while her vision is slightly fuzzy and her tongue feels heavy.

Chloe just nods, and Beca doesn’t think anything of it as she downs another shot.

She’ll probably regret this in the morning.

* * *

“I regret everything,” Beca groans, face-down into her pillow. Her head is throbbing and she kind of wants to throw up.

“Bec, drink some water,” Chloe says, poking her in the shoulder.

Reluctantly, Beca sits up and accepts the glass, taking small sips. 

Chloe sits down next to her on the bed, staring at Beca.

“What?” Beca asks, touching her hair self-consciously. It’s probably a mess.

“About last night…” Chloe says, and Beca shuts her eyes for a moment.

She’d been hoping Chloe wouldn’t bring that up.

“Did you mean what you said?” Chloe asks.

“About what?” Beca stalls, looking away.

“The part where you said I was hot and that you loved me,” Chloe says bluntly, and Beca winces. 

“I mean…” she says, wringing her hands, “in vino veritas, right?”

“You were drinking tequila.”

“And that’s exactly where you should have stopped me,” Beca tells her.

Chloe bites her lip, looking like she’s trying not to smile. “You’re an idiot.”

Beca simply shrugs.

“And for the record,” Chloe says, leaning over to whisper in Beca’s ear as she stands up to leave the room, “you’re the hottest person I know, too.”

Beca watches in disbelief as Chloe saunters out the door.


	178. Chapter 178

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt where Beca clicks perfectly with one of her co-worker from work, and Chloe felt insecure and afraid of losing her wife. (Leads to jealous & irrational Chloe confronting Beca and her co-worker)

Beca’s job is very glamorous—she’s constantly surrounded by celebrities and rich producers and hotshot songwriters.

Of course they’re all beautiful, too.

Chloe trusts Beca. Or, at least, she did until Beca started spending an exorbitant amount of time with one of her coworkers—a woman who looks like she models for Victoria’s Secret in her spare time and spends her weekends on her sugar daddy’s yacht.

Okay, that’s a little harsh.

Chloe’s not a jealous person. Well, she’s not  _usually_  a jealous person. But this woman—Abigail or Amelia or something—is just a little bit more than Chloe in every way: A little bit thinner, a little bit prettier, a little bit smarter, a little bit funnier. She understands Beca’s world in ways that Chloe—the lowly public music school teacher that she is—can’t.

It shouldn’t, but it still hurts whenever Beca makes plans with her or talks about how great she is or texts her when she’s supposed to be spending time with Chloe.

Chloe tries not to doubt Beca’s fidelity, but it’s difficult not to when she’s spending so much time with… oh, what’s her name?  _Amanda_.

And then Beca doesn’t come home one night.

She calls in the morning, of course:  _Sorry, I feel asleep at Amanda’s while we were working on a new album_.

Chloe wants to believe Beca, wants to trust Beca.

Key word: Wants.

In actuality, she storms into Beca’s office as soon as school lets out. 

Of  _course_  she’s in there with Amanda.

“Hey, Chlo,” Beca says, looking confused. “What’re you doing here? Are you okay?”

“No,” Chloe says shortly, crossing her arms. “Just tell me—” Her voice cracks, and she has to clear her throat. “Are you cheating on me with  _her_?”

Beca’s eyes widen, and she reels back as if slapped. “What?! No!”

“I’m just gonna go,” Amanda says, giving Chloe a wide berth as she rounds the desk and exits the office.

“Why would you accuse me of something like that?” Beca looks really hurt, and Chloe realizes she’s fucked up. “I wouldn’t  _ever_ do that to you.”

Chloe deflates; her anger gone, she can see how ridiculous she must have looked. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I know you wouldn’t. You’ve just been spending so much time with her, and she’s prettier than me and more interesting—”

“Chloe, stop,” Beca says, getting up from her chair and coming over to stand in front of Chloe. She cups one hand under Chloe’s chin, forcing eye contact. “I love you and  _only_ you,” she says slowly and clearly.

“Okay,” Chloe says, feeling terrible about what she’d said to Beca. “I’m so sorry.”

Beca doesn’t answer her, glancing toward the door. “Don’t tell Amanda I said this,” she whispers covertly, “but her breath smells like egg. Like, all the time.”

Chloe laughs, already feeling light. “I won’t.”


	179. Chapter 179

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey tries to get Beca and Chloe together with the help of the Bellas.

Beca and Chloe make Aubrey want to yank her hair out. 

They’re so into each other it’s disgusting—actually, physically nauseating. Aubrey feels like she needs to spray Chloe with cold water whenever she interacts with Beca half the time.

It might have been cute at one time—the whole “Beca’s an oblivious idiot” and “Chloe doesn’t want to ruin their friendship” thing—but now it’s just frustrating. And annoying. And exhausting.

(Chloe calls her a hypocrite, tells Aubrey that she’s the same way when it comes to Stacie. Aubrey isn’t sure what her point was, though, because she shut the door in Chloe’s face.)

Aubrey’s pretty sure Chloe will get mad at her if she tries to intervene, so Aubrey has to do it indirectly.

* * *

Aubrey calls a strategy meeting the next day before practice.

“Beca and Chloe just need to get together already,” she says, and no one questions it—Beca and Chloe’s respective toners for each other are the Bellas’ worst-kept secret. Cynthia Rose has had a betting pool on when they’d finally bang for the entire year—which Aubrey ignores, even though she should probably put a stop to it.

“Water is wet,” Amy says boredly, kicking her feet up on the empty chair across from her.

Aubrey ignores that, too. “We need to figure out how to get Beca to go for it, because Chloe won’t do it. She’s too afraid of messing up her friendship with Beca.”

“How are we gonna do that?” Stacie asks, frowning. “Beca thinks Chloe doesn’t like her like that.”

Amy snorts. “I don’t see how. Those two are so obvious that I have to wash the pheromones off of me whenever I get within ten feet of them,” she says.

Cynthia Rose leans forward eagerly, like she has an idea. “Okay, so what we have to do is get Beca to—”

The door bangs open and Chloe and Beca walk into the practice space, brushing hands every few steps. The group falls quiet.

Well, everyone except Amy.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Amy shouts, and Beca and Chloe look at her questioningly. “Can you two just pash already? I’m sick of whatever lesbian mating ritual you’ve got going on.”

“Amy!” Aubrey admonishes, horrified.

“Sorry, sorry,” Amy says, rolling her eyes. “ _Bisexual_ mating ritual.”

Beca’s mouth opens and closes, her cheeks reddening rapidly. “I’m not—we aren’t—you’re—”

“Yeah, it is kind of getting old,” Stacie chimes in. 

Aubrey wants to bury her head in her hands. This is  _not_ how she wanted this to go.

Cautiously, Chloe glances at Beca. “Um,” she says hesitantly, “can I talk to you outside?”

Beca glances back and forth between Chloe and the rest of the Bellas; she looks overwhelmed. “Okay,” she says after a moment.

* * *

For two people who had their heads up their asses for so long, Beca and Chloe waste no time in getting down to business.

Aubrey just wishes they’d do it more quietly, or at least somewhere other than in her apartment.

 _It’s what makes Chloe happy_ , she reminds herself for the nineteenth time as she cranks her music up even louder.

She’s going to have to talk with them once she’s absolutely sure they have clothes on.


	180. Chapter 180

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write a prompt where Beca is some kind of fighter (you choose which kind) and Chloe always gets super worked up during her fights but loves taking care of her after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of violence (for sport) and blood.

The current world record for breath-holding is twenty-two minutes and twenty-two seconds.

Chloe thinks she has them beat. 

Boxing is a weird sport; you sign yourself up to have the crap beat out of you in public, surrounded by screaming fans and sweating referees and girls in bikinis.

(Well, she can kind of see the appeal of the latter, but she really hopes that that isn’t why Beca does this.)

It’s very difficult to breathe while you’re watching your girlfriend being punched in the face, the stomach, the arm. So Chloe doesn’t.

This has to be Beca’s five hundredth fight, but Chloe still can only peek through her fingers as the blood runs from Beca’s forehead and mouth, intermingling with sweat and saliva as she lands another punch on her opponent.

It would be ridiculously hot if Chloe weren’t so concerned for her safety. 

(Okay, it’s still hot.)

When Beca finally knocks that bitch—um, her  _esteemed_   _opponent_ —down, Chloe leaps out of her seat, screaming and cheering. Beca’s undefeated reign remains intact.

* * *

Chloe always helps Beca take her gloves off after a fight—it’s their ritual, and Beca won’t let anybody else do it.

It of course pains Chloe to see Beca so banged up, bruised and bloody, but Beca always also has a triumphant grin on her face.

“Good fight, babe,” Chloe tells her with a wink as she unlaces the gloves. 

Beca smiles up at her, one eye half swollen shut, her lips cracked and raw. “Did you see how hard I knocked her out?”

Chloe chuckles. “Yes, I saw.” She works the gloves free and sets to work unwrapped Beca’s hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I could knock out ten more,” Beca says, and Chloe rolls her eyes.

“Does anything hurt?”

“No,” Beca responds—same answer every time. She flexes her hands experimentally once Chloe gets the tape and gauze off. Chloe lifts the bruised, split knuckles to her lips and kisses each one, carefully watching Beca’s face to be sure she isn’t in pain.

“Okay,” Chloe says when she’s done, “you hop in the shower and after I’ll give you a massage, alright?”

Beca nods, and Chloe carefully pulls her to her feet. Beca stands there for a moment, looking at Chloe expectantly.

Chloe can’t believe she almost forgot—

“Do you need help with your shower?” she asks, innocently in case anyone should overhear.

“Always.”


	181. Chapter 181

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a Bechloe prompt based on this: nataliedormerr.co.vu/post/125650432514

Beca is used to people running.

She’s used to being walked out on, put down, and cast aside.

She’s been  _something_  to a lot of people, but she’s never been  _everything_ to anyone.

Until Chloe.

Chloe makes Beca whole; she makes Beca a better person, more complete.

Beca’s a bit of an asshole, but she’s a loyal asshole—she’ll walk on hot coals for someone who looks at her for even a moment like she’s the most beautiful thing in the room.

Consequently, she’s been hurt. A lot. 

Beca doesn’t really like to talk about her past. She doesn’t think it particularly interesting, anyway—just a girl whose dad left her and mom dated a string of sleazy guys and who has been cheated on approximately four times. And no one really seems to care.

But Chloe wants to know everything. She wants to memorize every inch of Beca, inside and out. 

She lets Beca talk, nodding and “mm-hmm”-ing in all of the right places, tracing lazy patterns on Beca’s arm as they lie in bed on a rainy day.

She lets Beca cry, holding her tight and whispering reassurances in her ear, handing her tissues in between pressing kisses to Beca’s face and palms.

She lets Beca yell, handing Beca pillows to throw instead of furniture, humming to her softly and massaging her shoulders afterwards to calm her down.

Chloe hasn’t left, or even threatened to. It’s something Beca isn’t used to, doesn’t quite understand. She’s always managed her relationships like those breakaway collars for pets—if something goes awry, she can break off and run in ten seconds flat.

But she doesn’t want to do that with Chloe. Beca  _wants_ to stay, wants it more than anything she’s ever wanted before. She’d tried to explain it to Jesse, this weird feeling of attachment and affinity, like she could put her life into Chloe’s hands for safekeeping.

Jesse had laughed at her. “That’s trust, Bec,” he’d said. “And love.”

Perhaps it is.

Chloe is like putting on your favorite pair of perfectly worn-in flip-flops at the beginning of summer. She’s like the familiar smell of your house, the one you only notice after you’ve been gone for awhile. She’s like the favorite song you haven’t listened to in years but still remember all of the words to when it plays randomly on the radio.

Beca doesn’t know exactly what she wants for the future—hell, half the time she doesn’t even know what she wants an hour from now.

But she knows that she can do anything with Chloe’s hand in hers.


	182. Chapter 182

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1d_mCmMdLIY

There’s something a bit different about the girl next door to Chloe’s new house.

The first time Chloe had met her, the girl had tapped her on the shoulder and handed Chloe the teddy bear she had dropped. But the girl darted away before Chloe could ask her name.

Chloe saw her again the next day, reading a book on her bed next to the window, as Chloe unpacked the boxes in her bedroom. Cautiously, Chloe waved, and the girl waved back. 

Then Chloe had an idea: She grabbed a large piece of paper and scrawled,  _Hi, I’m Chloe,_ and pressed the paper to the glass.

The girl hopped off of her bed and ran away from the window. Chloe lowered the sign, dejected and disappointed.

Except the girl came back a minute later, holding a sign that read,  _I’m Beca_.

They talked like that over the next week—asking favorites, mostly. Beca likes macaroni and cheese, and soccer, and music, and baby otters. They both like Skittles— _But only the red ones_ , Beca tells her.

 _What’s your favorite bug?_ Beca writes one evening.

Chloe wrinkles her nose, thinking. She doesn’t particularly like any kind of bug.  _Butterflies_ , she writes, holding it up for Beca to see. 

 _Fireflies_ , Beca says, adding,  _they send secret messages to each other._

They “talk” away afternoons, spending countless hours writing back and forth, until the sunlight is too dim to read the signs.

Chloe wonders sometimes why Beca never invites her over, but she figures that perhaps she’s just shy. So she spends an hour picking every red Skittle out of a jumbo bag and putting it into a jar and cuts across Beca’s lawn.

Beca answers Chloe’s ring of the doorbell, her eyes wide and frightened. She freezes long enough for Chloe to say, “Because you said the red ones are your favorite.”

And then Beca turns and dashes back into the house, leaving Chloe standing there with the jar, hurt and confused.

After a moment, Beca’s mom comes to the door. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she says, smiling apologetically. “Beca has autism, and it’s hard for her to talk to people face-to-face. This is so nice, though,” she tells Beca, accepting the jar Chloe is still holding out. “I’ll make sure she gets it.”

Chloe sits in her room for the rest of the day, staring at the drawn blinds over Beca’s window, the words Beca’s mom had spoken echoing in her mind.

Long after her bedtime, Chloe pulls up Wikipedia and searches the word “autism.” (It takes her a few times to get the correct spelling.)

_Autism is a neurodevelopmental disorder characterized by impaired social interaction, verbal and non-verbal communication, and restricted and repetitive behavior._

She reads late into the night, actually falling asleep at the computer for a bit before dragging herself into bed. She dreams that she and Beca are fireflies, communicating only by blinking their lights.

The next day, Chloe convinces her mom to take her to the store. Using the allowance she’d been saving to buy a new iPod, Chloe buys two flashlights and two books on Morse code.

She ding-dong ditches Beca’s house later that day, leaving one of the flashlights and the books on the front step.

Chloe tries to hold out and wait until Beca initiates contact with her, but around 9 pm her impatience wins out and she flashes the light repeatedly at Beca’s window until the blinds slowly open.

Four short flashes. Pause. Two short flashes.  _Hi_.

Elated, Chloe flashes back:  _Hi_.

Beca is different, and being friends with Beca is different. Chloe’s never heard her voice, or ridden bikes with her down the street, or gone to the park together. Chloe isn’t sure if they ever will, but—

 _Thanks for being my friend_ , Beca flashes.


	183. Chapter 183

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse is giving his toast at Beca and Chloe’s wedding. When he’s talking about how he and Beca are best friends, he suddenly starts crying tears of joy. Chloe decides to down her champagne and finish the toast, making everyone laugh.

Beca’s not sure whose idea it was to let Jesse give a toast at the wedding reception.

She’s pretty sure it wasn’t her, but she  _does_ have a distinct memory of Jesse asking her incessantly via text message while she was at work, so she might have indeed agreed to it.

(Plus, he’d seemed genuinely disappointed when Beca told him he couldn’t be her maid of honor, so she felt bad.)

It’s not that she doesn’t  _want_  Jesse to talk—she just can’t always trust what’s going to come out of his mouth once he gets a microphone in his hand.

Beca gives him a couple of basic ground rules before the toasting begins: no talking about how she and Chloe met, no talking about anything Beca has done when drunk, no talking about that… thing that happened after the ICCAs their freshman year, and no lewd jokes about “making music with her mouth.”

When it’s Jesse’s turn to speak, Beca grips Chloe’s hand nervously under the table.

“I met Beca our freshman year of college,” Jesse says. “We were both working at the campus radio station. We became best friends immediately after that.”

Beca rolls her eyes because  _no_ , that’s not exactly how it went, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll admit, I had a bit of a crush on her,” Jesse says as the guests chuckle, and Beca tenses, thinking he’s going to mention  _that thing_. “But she only had eyes for Chloe.”

Chloe squeezes Beca’s hand under the table.

“And at first I was jealous,” Jesse continues, “but I’m just so happy that she’s found true love.” His voice cracks on the last word— _oh, fuck,_ Beca thinks. “Chloe is your soulmate and…” He trails off, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes.

“Jesus,” Chloe mutters next to her. She knocks back what’s left in her champagne flute and stands, empty glass still in her fingers. “Thank you, Jesse, for that… heartfelt speech,” she cuts him off. 

If Jesse is offended, he doesn’t look it; he sits back down and wipes at his nose and the corners of his eyes.

“I can tell you, Jesse, that you never stood a chance with Beca,” Chloe jokes, and Jesse laughs good-naturedly along with the other guests. “Beca is my soulmate,” she says, gazing at Beca longly. “She’s my other half; she’s my best friend.”

Beca looks around self-consciously. She’s never been good at being the center of attention; she can’t discern if the flutter of her heart is due to Chloe’s words or the eyes of all of the guests on her.

“I’m so lucky to have found you. I love you, Beca,” Chloe says softly, like her words are meant only for Beca’s ears. Then Chloe looks back at Jesse. “And I’m so glad you dumped Jesse the day after you kissed him at the ICCAs.”

And then she sits down like nothing happened.

“I am going to kill you,” Beca murmurs to her through gritted teeth.

Chloe winks at her. “I’m counting on it.”


	184. Chapter 184

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe convinces Beca to get a dog with her?

Beca doesn’t like animals, and animals don’t like her. They’re obnoxious, and smelly, and unpredictable. 

Whenever Beca passes someone on the sidewalk walking a dog, she moves two feet farther away than necessary just to convey to the owner that she doesn’t approve.

So when Chloe says, “Let’s get a puppy!” Beca’s first answer is a steadfast, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” Chloe asks, frowning. 

“I don’t like dogs,” Beca tells her, barely even bothering to look up from her laptop.

“What do you have against puppies?” Chloe says, sounding offended.

“I have a long list of grievances.”

“But it would be fun!” Chloe flops down on the couch, nudging Beca’s laptop with her feet so she can rest them in Beca’s lap. “We’d get to name it, and buy it cute little outfits, and we could take it on runs—”

“You’re not helping your case at all here,” Beca drawls, closing her laptop and putting it on the coffee table. 

“—and,” Chloe continues, ignoring Beca, “we could watch TV with the dog in our laps.” She smiles (like she’s enchanted by this alternate universe in which Beca would  _ever_ agree to getting a dog). “It’d be like having our own child.”

“So the dog is a gateway to having a baby?” Beca raises an eyebrow. 

Chloe pokes Beca with her toe. “You know what I meant.”

“Either way, I don’t want a dog,” Beca says. 

“Please?”

“No.”

“ _Please_?” Chloe repeats, and Beca makes the mistake of looking at her; she’s doing the trademark Chloe Beale Pout—the one that got Beca to participate in a Bellas bikini car wash her junior year, and that made her agree to sign up for a gym membership with Chloe.

“Ugh,” Beca groans, her resolve crumbling quickly, “I don’t want to.”

“But it would make me happy,” Chloe says, batting her eyelashes.

“No,” Beca says again, trying for a firm tone. It comes out sounding petulant.

Chloe stands up from the couch suddenly, pulling off her shirt and unbuttoning her jeans. Beca stares at her, mouth slightly open.

Chloe is prepared to fight dirty.

“Please?” Chloe asks again, straddling Beca’s waist in just her bra and underwear.

“Chloe!” Beca says exasperatedly as Chloe nips at Beca’s jawline, but she tils her head to the side to allow Chloe easier access. “This isn’t fair.”

“Getting a dog would make me really”—nip—”really”—kiss—” _really_ ”—bite—”happy.”

Beca groans. She really hates Chloe sometimes.


	185. Chapter 185

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you make one with Beca and Chloe on a dating TV show, like a "how well do you know your partner" newlywed game show or something? They can either be really good, terrible whatever. Totally up to you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very loosely based off of the Wikipedia synopsis of The Newlywed Game, which I have never seen. So kindly just ignore anything that’s incorrect.

For the record, Beca didn’t agree to this.

No, this is Chloe’s idea of a wedding present—which, Beca has said to her  _many_ times, is something  _other_ people give to the married couple.

Needless to say, “Wake up, Bec! We’re gonna be on The Newlywed Game today!” is not a way Beca ever expected—or wanted—to start her day.

Beca tried to object, tried to argue, but Chloe gave her The Face (the one Chloe  _knows_ will get Beca to do anything she asks) and Beca caved.

“I don’t like this,” Beca mutters to Chloe, squinting up at the bright lights and cameras and sound equipment. 

Chloe just shrugs as Beca’s escorted backstage by an assistant to wait in a room while the producers as Chloe questions.

It’s kind of nerve-wracking, not knowing what to expect, and Beca can’t help but feel like the other contestants are judging her for being on the show. Which is ridiculous, seeing as they are, too.

She taps her fingers nervously against her legs until she’s led back out onto the set and seated beside Chloe. 

“Alright,” the host says, addressing all of the couples. “We asked your spouse three questions and they’ve written down their answers. I’m going to ask you the same question; if your answer matches your spouse’s, you get five points. Okay?”

Chloe squeezes Beca’s hand as the host starts asking one of the couples to their left, a bell ringing for correct answers and a buzzer sounding for incorrect ones.

“Okay, Beca,” the host finally says, “If your spouse could have constant access to one store, what store would it be?”

Beca thinks for a minute. Chloe loves to shop for clothing, but what she really loses her shit over is organizational accessories. “The Container Store,” she answers.

A bell sounds. “Correct! You’ve just earned five points,” the host says enthusiastically, and Chloe pecks Beca on the cheek as she flips her sign around. “Question two: What will your spouse say is your favorite food?”

Beca knows what her favorite food is, but Chloe is a bit of a health freak and would probably scold Beca if she knew how many Oreos she eats on a weekly basis.

“Pizza,” Beca says—it’s her second-favorite food, and she does eat a lot of it.

The bell sounds. “Right again!” 

Beca grins; she has to admit, she’s kind of getting into the game. Chloe whoops and slaps Beca five.

“Final question for five points,” the host says. “What was the last book your spouse read?”

That one is easy. “ _Fifty Shades of Grey_ ,” Beca answers, smiling triumphantly as the bell wins.

They’ve  _so_ got this.

* * *

…Or maybe they don’t.

“Chloe, if your spouse could be married to a movie star who would they choose?”

“Um…” Chloe says, glancing at Beca. “50 Cent?”

Beca stares at her as the buzzer sounds. “What? Chloe, no.” She flips her card around to reveal her answer:  _Katy Perry_.

“Oh,” Chloe says, shoulders drooping.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Beca soothes, rubbing Chloe’s hand.

“What is your spouse’s favorite flower?” the host asks, and Beca internally fist pumps. Chloe is guaranteed to get this one.

“Roses?” Chloe says, and Beca whips her head around to look at her.

“Chlo!” she nearly shouts, turning her card.  _No flowers (I’m allergic)._ “Don’t you remember Valentine’s Day 2014?”

“Shit,” Chloe gasps, smacking herself in the forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Okay, Chloe, final question,” the host tells them, “for ten points: What color was the front door on the first place you lived together?”

When Chloe pauses, Beca knows they’re in trouble.

“Blue?”

“We’ve only lived in one apartment, Chloe!” Beca all but shouts. “The door is fucking black!”

“I’m sorry!” Chloe says, dragging her hands through her hair. “I forgot! I’m not good under pressure.”

Beca sighs. She can’t really stay mad—not when Chloe is looking at her with wide eyes, seeming genuinely disappointed in herself.

“It’s okay,” Beca mutters.  _I guess I didn’t want that vacation anyway_ , she adds silently.

Chloe kisses Beca on the side of her mouth and leans over to whisper in Beca’s ear: “I’ll let you punish me for it later.”

Beca swallows hard, her body heating.

Suddenly, she doesn’t care so much about that vacation.


	186. Chapter 186

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe is a lifeguard and Beca is like mesmerized and she gets distracted by looking at Chloe and she ends up like slipping and falling in the pool and Chloe has to save her?

Beca’s not a very strong swimmer.

(Okay, maybe she can’t swim at all.)

Which begs the question: Why is she hanging out at a pool?

Answer: Chloe Beale.

Beca’s not usually the kind of girl who has crushes. She’s not usually the kind of girl who cares about other people at all, but Chloe is… different.

Beca will admit it—Chloe is  _hot._ She has the bluest eyes Beca’s ever seen, although they’re usually hidden behind a pair of aviators. Her hair glows brilliantly red in the sunlight, and it looks immeasurably soft. Beca wonders what it would feel like to run her fingers through it, as Chloe’s perfectly toned arms wrapped around her waist and—

Beca has a crush.

This finds her poolside on a Thursday afternoon, in the only bikini she owns and a thick coat of SPF 50. 

She’s lucky today, because the sun is shining bright and hot, and Chloe has taken off her t-shirt in favor of her red bathing suit top. Beca can see the ripples of her stomach muscles whenever Chloe shifts position, small beads of sweat rolling down her chest and disappearing into her cleavage.

It is this that Beca blames when she trips over her own feet walking past the lifeguard stand en route to get herself a drink.

She lands in the pool with a  _splash!_  water filling her nose and mouth. Panic rises in her chest as she flails her arms and legs, trying to get her head above water but too startled and disoriented to be very effective.

Beca feels the water move around her before strong arms grab her around her middle and haul her up to the surface.

She sputters and coughs, dragging as much air into her lungs as she can as her savior drags her to the shallow end of the pool. Relief floods her as her feet land on the cement, and Beca finally catches her breath and opens her eyes.

And sees Chloe standing in front of her.

“Are you alright?” Chloe asks, hands still holding Beca’s sides, like she might drop back under the water at any second. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No,” Beca wheezes, face burning, “just my pride.”

Chloe laughs, light and musical. “It happens.”

“Do you see anyone else falling ass-first into the pool?” Beca grumbles, her stomach fluttering at the sight of Chloe’s glistening wet skin, droplets of water running down her face, chest, and stomach.

Chloe just smiles and pats Beca on the arm. “It happens to the best of us,” she says. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Beca says, skin tingling where Chloe’s hands had been. “Thanks for… you know, saving me.”

Chloe winks. “Anytime.”

Beca may or may not have tripped climbing the stairs out of the pool because she was busy watching Chloe’s ass.

Yeah, she definitely didn’t do that.


	187. Chapter 187

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please write a angst one shot where Bechloe is established, Beca and Stacie have been seeing each other and Chloe goes to visit Beca at her recording studio and sees her with Stacie

Is it possible to love two people at once? Beca isn’t sure.

Beca had always thought that Chloe was the love of her life, her one and only. Chloe gets her in a way no one else ever has; her gentle words and soft eyes make the world seem less intimidating. Beca feels like she can do anything with Chloe by her side.

But, somehow, she also grew close to Stacie. Stacie was the only other Bella who stuck around Atlanta after graduation. She would come over to Beca and Chloe’s apartment for dinner or meet them for coffee dates—sometimes with Chloe, sometimes without.

Stacie is smart, and beautiful, and sexy; Beca had always felt a small attraction to her, but she chalked it up to envy of Stacie’s confidence.

Beca didn’t realize how strong that attraction was until she ended up in Stacie’s bed after an evening of bad Lifetime movies and cheap wine.

She feels terrible about it—she lies awake at night, watching Chloe sleeping peacefully, chest tight with guilt. Every time Chloe kisses her, Beca feels like the worst person in the world. Chloe’s loving gaze sets her insides on fire, filling Beca so strongly with shame that it’s hard to breathe.

She’s living a lie, and she can’t stop.

Stacie hasn’t asked Beca to break up with Chloe or make a choice of any sort—she just takes whatever love Beca can give her. It makes Beca wonder how long Stacie’s had feelings for her.

Beca has tried to choose—she’s really, really tried. But one day she’s fully prepared to leave Chloe, and the next she’s clinging to her with everything she has; one day Beca’s about to end things with Stacie, and the next she’s fucking her senseless.

Beca isn’t sure how much longer she can go on like this.

It’s hard for them to find alone time, as Chloe always wants to come along whenever Beca makes plans with Stacie (and she can’t exactly say  _no_ ). So they find themselves often fooling around in Beca’s office at work. (Beca’s boss doesn’t seem to care what she does during the day as long as she’s producing good-quality music.)

It’s during one of those times—Stacie has Beca pressed up against the wall, tops on the ground and working on unclasping Beca’s bra—when the door opens.

And Chloe is standing in the doorway, looking equal parts confused, horrified, and infuriated.

“Chloe,” Beca says breathlessly, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to tame it, “what are you doing here?”

Chloe opens and closes her mouth a couple of times, like she’s too angry to speak. “You forgot your lunch,” she says finally, and Beca notices for the first time the brown paper bag dropped on the floor at her feet.

“Oh,” Beca says. What else can she say? Stacie is standing next to her, shirt clutched protectively to her chest; Beca’s not even sure where Stacie threw hers.

There’s a long, painful silence until Chloe asks, “How long?”

“Um,” Beca says, looking at the wall, the ceiling, the floor—anywhere but at the hurt evident in Chloe’s eyes. “A year?”

Chloe nods slowly, tears silently spilling down her cheeks. “Do you love her?” she asks quietly, resignedly.

“No,” Beca says instinctively, forgetting Stacie is in the room. She’s too desperate to save her relationship with Chloe. “I love you, Chlo. Only you.”

For some reason that makes Chloe cry harder. “You love me and you would do this to me?” she chokes out. Beca feels like there’s something trapped in her stomach trying to claw its way out. “We’re done, Beca,” Chloe says with finality.

“Chloe, no!” Beca calls, heart plummeting to her feet.

But Chloe has already turned and walked out, leaving Beca alone with Stacie.

Stacie, who looks like she’s just been punched in the abdomen.

“Stacie,” Beca says, reaching out for her. But Stacie pulls away like she’s been burned. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Save it, Beca,” Stacie spits, yanking her shirt over her head and storming out of the office.

Ten minutes ago, Beca had everything.

Now she has nothing.

So she does the only thing she can do—she sits on the floor of her office and cries.


	188. Chapter 188

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you please do a drabble where Chloe interrupts Beca and Jesse's wedding (just as they were about to say "I do" or when the priest asks who's objecting, you choose which scenario) and confesses her feelings for Beca?

_Together with their families, Jesse and Beca request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their union._

The invitation sits under a pile of junk mail on your kitchen counter for weeks. 

You try to forget about it, but it floats at the periphery of your mind, nagging at you like the feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something but you can’t remember what it is.

You see Beca at the altar with Jesse, kissing him before running off hand-in-hand with him into the sunset in your dreams; you hear every time Beca has ever said your name whenever you’re alone.

You hear her musical laugh when you lie awake at night, staring up at the ceiling and regretting every choice you’ve ever made.

You don’t decide whether you’re actually going to go to the wedding until two days before. 

If you had to find out from Facebook that Beca and Jesse were engaged, then they can suck their RSVP. It’s not your problem.

(Except it kind of is.)

You and Beca have always had an… intense friendship. It edged so frequently on something  _more_ that you’ve never been able to pin down Beca’s exact feelings on you. ( _For_  you.)  You never even know what  _you_ felt, half the time—only that you wanted to be close to Beca all the time, even when it burned your skin.

You’d always justified not crossing the line—not going for it—to yourself by thinking that Beca’s afraid of commitment. That she’d run. Really, though, it was you who hesitated. It was you who was scared.

It was you who turned your back when Beca went back to Jesse, because the thought of them together made you want to simultaneously throw up and cry.

In her defense, Beca had tried to reach out to you. Which is a pretty big thing, considering you’re the one who gave up on her.

You just hadn’t wanted to hear about her perfect life as a successful up-and-coming music producer with the loving, doting, soon-to-be husband on her arm. You hadn’t wanted to hear about her being happy with anyone who wasn’t you.

The regret eats away at you, gnawing your insides until they’re raw and burning with emotion. 

You slowly realize what you’ve really know all along: You’re still in love with Beca. 

You remember the last time you saw Beca in person—at Stacie’s baby shower. (Surprisingly, Stacie had been the first of the Bellas to settle down and start a family.) Beca, you recall, had looked beautiful in a white sundress you’d bought her so many years ago.

You had wondered if she’d worn it on purpose.

Beca had touched your arm at every opportunity (seven times, you counted). It hurt, yet you still craved more.

She had whined your name, broken and desperate, as she came, pressed against the door of the bathroom you’d dragged her into.

It was everything you’d ever fantasized about, and it  _killed_ you.

For fifteen minutes, you’d had Beca. You’d been the only one in her world. She’d been yours.

And then you had to hand her back, like nothing had ever happened.

You got the wedding invitation a couple of months later—and, frankly, you’re surprised you didn’t burn it.

You sit in a pew in the middle of the church, next to an older woman you don’t know. You don’t think you can sit through this and try to make small talk with one of the Bellas.

Watching Beca glide down the aisle towards Jesse is like walking to your own execution. Beca looks radiant, of course, but she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

You notice partway through the ceremony that she’s trying to discreetly scan the crowd.

When her eyes finally land on yours, you can’t help but inhale sharply.

Beca is marrying Jesse.

This is happening. This is real. This is final.

“Should anyone here present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the priest says, and the works sink low and settle heavily in your stomach, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You don’t even realize you’re standing up until you’re looking out over the crowd; you don’t realize you’ve opened your mouth until a strained sound escapes.

Everyone turns to look at you—most confused, some horrified. Beca’s face is blank, but even from across the church you think you can detect the faint flickers of hopefulness in them—the ones you’ve seen before she plays you a new mix or gives you a hug.

“I…” You don’t even know what to say.  _I’m sorry? Please don’t do this to me? I love you?_ “…object,” you finally croak, the words sounding shaky and small.

There’s an extended moment of silence. This is what the movies don’t tell you—no one comes running into your arms; it’s awkward, and nerve-wracking, and borderline embarrassing.

Beca looks between you and Jesse, who manages to look both baffled and infuriated. She doesn’t say anything—which isn’t an objection, and it’s the first clue that maybe this wasn’t a horrible, horrible, stupid idea.

“I love you, Beca,” you say, your voice gaining confidence (even if everyone in the church is still staring at you like you’ve lost your mind). “I always have,” you admit quietly, and you see Beca’s face soften a bit. “I’ve just been too dumb to say it. Please don’t do this,” you add, feeling equal parts proud of and disgusted with yourself.

This isn’t exactly good friend behavior.

“Chloe, I—” Beca finally speaks, her gaze darting between Chloe and Jesse. Her shoulders slump, like the weight of the last few years have suddenly dropped onto her, and drops her bouquet to the floor.

It feels like a victory.

“I love you, too,” Beca says, loud and clear. Like she just doesn’t give a shit anymore. Like she’s been waiting forever to say this. 

You can’t help it; you grin, despite the fact that you’ve just completely ruined the wedding and Jesse and Beca’s relationship.

You’ll think about that later, though, because Beca hikes up her skirt and walks down the aisle towards you.

This isn’t a movie. You’re not going to wake up tomorrow without having to face the repercussions of your actions. Your relationship with Beca isn’t magically going to be fixed.

But you  _do g_ et to leave the church with Beca on your arm—

So everything else can wait.


	189. Chapter 189

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe tries so hard to be perfect, and she keeps all her frustrations in. But, one day she does something wrong and has a huge breakdown and Beca’s there to help her through it. They’re already girlfriends, by the way.

Beca feels like she knows Chloe fairly well—they’ve been friends for three years and girlfriends for one and a half. 

Beca knows what makes Chloe tick; she knows that Chloe hates onions on her salad, and that she can touch her tongue to her nose, and that she cries  _every_ time she watched  _Marley and Me_.

But the Chloe that came back to Barden after the muffgate fiasco?

This isn’t her Chloe.

This Chloe is quiet and withdrawn, and wound so tightly that Beca genuinely fears she’ll explode at any moment. This Chloe cries from sheer stress at least twice a week. This Chloe seems broken, like there’s a piece of her missing and she can’t find it again.

Beca tries to comfort Chloe in every way she knows how: She massages Chloe’s shoulders and brings her iced tea and whispers in Chloe’s ear how much she loves her.

It seems to help a little bit in the moment, but Chloe won’t  _talk_ about what’s truly bothering her. Which is strange, because Chloe’s always been a talker. It worries Beca; Chloe keeps all of her frustrations locked inside herself, and Beca’s afraid that one day they’re going to claw their way out.

Beca’s just waiting for it all to blow up.

It happens on a Thursday afternoon.

The first thing Beca notices when she gets back from class is the stench of something burning in the air. She follows her nose to the kitchen, and sees Chloe slumped on the floor by the counter, sobbing into her hands.

“Chlo,” Beca says worriedly, hurrying over to crouch next to her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Chloe can barely get words out, so she just points to the counter.

Standing, Beca sees a tray of burnt cookies. Which doesn’t really explain anything about the situation, other than the smell hanging over the kitchen.

“We’ll just make new cookies?” Beca tries, because she really doesn’t know what to say. She’s pretty sure  _they’re just cookies, stop crying_ would not be helpful.

Chloe shakes her head. “I can’t do anything right,” she chokes out.

 _Oh_.

“That’s not true, Chloe,” Beca says gently, sliding down the counter to the floor and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend.

Chloe shakes her head again, and Beca can’t help but notice how pretty she is, even when she’s crying. “I can’t. The Bellas are falling apart, and I’m failing all of my classes. I couldn’t even get us through a performance for a bunch of old people.”

“That’s not your fault,” Beca says, chest clenching painfully at the sight of Chloe so terribly distraught. (Well, the whole failing thing kind of  _is_  Chloe’s fault, but that’s a conversation for another day.)

Chloe doesn’t answer, just stares dejectedly at her lap. 

Beca shifts uncomfortably. She’s never been good at this  _feelings_ stuff—she usually turns and runs at the first sign of tears. Trying to articulate her emotions makes her feel vulnerable, and she  _hates_ feeling vulnerable. 

But this is Chloe, and Chloe deserves everything. So Beca will try to give it to her.

“I love you, Chloe,” Beca says, gently turning Chloe’s head with a hand against her cheek to make Chloe look at her. “I love you more than anyone else I’ve ever met. I think you’re amazing, and talented, and beautiful, and smart, and… just really great,” Beca tells her awkwardly, looking at a point on the wall past Chloe’s head.

“The Bellas wouldn’t even have a chance to compete at Worlds if it weren’t for you,” Beca continues. Chloe’s sobs have subsided to sniffles, and she grips Beca’s hands tightly. Beca takes this as a good sign. “The Bellas wouldn’t be three-time ICCA champions without you.” She shrugs a little. “Shit happens, Chlo, but it’s not your fault.”

A pause. “Okay,” Chloe says finally, quietly. Beca’s not quite sure if Chloe believes her, but it’s a start.

“I love you,” Beca says again. “And I think you’re perfect.”

Chloe nods, a tiny smile on her face. “I love you, too.”

Beca stands again, pulling Chloe to her feet as well. “What do you say we make some new cookies?” she suggests.

Chloe pecks her on the cheek. “Okay.”


	190. Chapter 190

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: because kisses magically fix everything so when Chloe reveals she has nodes, Beca insists on kissing the pain away. Fuffy Bechloe and neck kissing.

Beca’s not the best when it comes to handling crying people.

If it can’t be fixed with a pat on the arm and a handful of tissues, she tries to stay away.

It’s not that she doesn’t  _care_ about the upset person—she just doesn’t know what to do.

But this is Chloe, and seeing Chloe so distraught actually physically pains Beca, so she better figure out what to do.

It helps that Chloe isn’t full-on crying—just teary eyes and some sniffles here and there. Beca grabs the box of tissues that lives on her desk and puts them next to Chloe on the bed.

“Thanks,” Chloe says quietly, taking a tissue and wiping under her eyes.

“Does it hurt?” Beca asks, eyeing Chloe’s neck. She still doesn’t  _really_ understand the physicality behind the nodes—she sings to herself all time without “proper lubrication,” and she’s fine.

Chloe hesitates, and Beca knows she’s debating whether or not to put on a brave face. Then her shoulders droop. “Yes.”

And Beca does the only thing that comes to mind: She leans over and presses a kiss to Chloe’s throat, right on her pulse point. She moves her lips to the right, then down, kissing all of the skin she can reach from her position before swinging a leg over to straddle Chloe’s lap for better access.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asks, a little breathlessly. Her hands automatically find Beca’s waist.

“Kissing it and making it better,” Beca mumbles against Chloe’s skin. She nips a little at the underside of Chloe’s jaw, making her squirm.

“I’m not four,” Chloe says, but she tilts her head to the side for easier access.

“Shut up,” Beca says, cheeks warming—it’s probably not the most compassionate thing to do, she realizes. But Chloe just chuckles.

Beca kisses up the other side of Chloe’s neck, loving the staccato breathing and soft sighs it elicits from Chloe.

She alternates between sucking and biting, focusing on the spot where Chloe’s neck meets her shoulder. She runs the flat of her tongue over the bruise to soothe it.

“Bec,” Chloe says, voice low, fingernails digging into Beca’s skin, “This is going to end in me screaming your name, and I don’t think that will be good for my throat.”

Beca immediately pulls away. “Sorry,” she says, gently brushing her thumb over the red spot. She’s supposed to be taking care of Chloe, not acting like a hormonal teenage boy.

Chloe looks up at her. “I didn’t say stop.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “Okay then.” She resumes kissing Chloe’s collarbones, biting down hard enough to make Chloe squeal.

It is her job, after all.


	191. Chapter 191

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested continuation of the Staubrey prompt.

Chloe, true to her nature, flips the  _fuck_ out when Aubrey tells her.

“Our child is a matchmaker!” she squeals, loud enough to wake up said child—whom Aubrey  _just_ put to sleep.

“Shh,” Aubrey shushes her. “And it was  _me_ who asked Stacie out, thank you very much.” She’s pretty damn proud of herself for going for it, and she’s not going to let a three-year-old take the credit.

“I still can’t believe you actually did it,” Chloe says, casually stripping off her clothes to change into pajamas.

 _Typical,_ Aubrey thinks with a shake of her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

Chloe opens her mouth to reply, but she’s cut off by Beca entering the room. “You trying to undress my wife, Posen?” Beca says, an eyebrow quirked.

“Just because I can do it faster than you can is no reason to be jealous,” Aubrey says, but she stands and slips her shoes back on.

“Get outta my house, homewrecker,” Beca brushes past Aubrey on her way to the bathroom.

Aubrey rolls her eyes. “Good night, Chlo.”

“Night,” Chloe says with a quick peck to Aubrey’s cheek. “Good luck!”

* * *

**Beca Mitchell:** _Why does my child keep saying “aca-awesome”?_

**Beca Mitchell:** _You’re a dead woman, Posen._

Aubrey drops her phone back into her purse as she sees Stacie approaching, impossibly long legs accentuated by her wedge sandals.

Aubrey does  _do_ pining; she doesn’t wait around and hope that people notice her. She’s a make-the-first-move kind of girl.

But Stacie is different, because Stacie is one of her best friends.

It’s a different kind of attraction—Aubrey gets the butterflies in her stomach and the sweaty hands, but she also cares for Stacie platonically.

It’s different. It’s a good-different but also a scary-different: The attraction is stronger, and more emotions are involved.

If this all goes downhill, Aubrey doesn’t know what she’ll do.

But she’s getting ahead of herself, because Stacie is here, looking like a goddess in a white sundress.

“You ready?” Stacie asks, gesturing to the restaurant. 

Aubrey nods resolutely and accepts the hand that Stacie offers. “I’m ready.”

(Or, at least, she hopes she is.)


	192. Chapter 192

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovechild AU. Chloe's out of town, so Beca's all on her own when Emily approaches her asking for boy advice.

Beca’s  _totally_  got this.

Today alone, she make Emily breakfast  _and_ packed her lunch, dropped her off at school on the way to work, got home, did a load of laundry, cooked dinner, and cleaned up the kitchen.

She considers sending Chloe photo evidence of her work, but her wife is probably too busy at the conference she’s attending for the week to look at her phone.

Beca is completely on top of this (temporarily) single mom thing.

So when Emily says, “Mom? I need your help,” Beca thinks,  _fuck, yeah._

“What’s up, Em?” Beca asks, closing her laptop and setting it on the coffee table.

Emily sits down next to her on the couch, twisting her fingers in her lap nervously. ( _Just like her mother_ , Chloe always says.) “It’s about a boy.”

“Um…” Beca says. She takes back everything she said—she most definitely does  _not_  have this. “What about this… boy?”

“His name is Benji and he’s in my English class,” Emily tells her.”I really like him and I think he likes me, too.”

“Okay,” Beca says. She knows that it’s unrealistic to try and shield Emily from the dating world forever—she is fifteen, after all. But Beca still sees her as the child who used to insist that Chloe draw whiskers on her cheeks in eyeliner.

“But I don’t  _know_ for sure if he likes me,” Emily continues, oblivious to Beca’s discomfort. “Like, I’m pretty sure he does, but I don’t want to ask him out and risk getting rejected, you know?”

“Um, sure,” Beca answers. 

“What should I do?” Emily asks.

Beca hesitates. “Maybe you should focus on your English class.”

Emily frowns. “What would you do?”

“I would focus on my English class.”

“Mom!” Emily says exasperatedly. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” Beca apologizes, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just hard for me to think about my baby girl dating a  _boy_.”

Emily smiles a little at this. “I’m not a baby anymore, Mom.”

“Yes, you are,” Beca says, squeezing Emily’s hand. “And any guy who would reject you is an idiot. You’re a real catch, Em.”

“Thanks,” Emily says softly.

“I mean, you  _are_ half me,” Beca says with a shrug.

Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay.”

“And if he’s mean to you, I’ll kill him,” Beca says casually, picking her laptop back up.

Emily’s eyes widen. “Mom,  _no_.”

“Don’t worry,” Beca says, “I know how to make it look like an accident.”

Emily looks so horrified that Beca has to laugh. “Relax, Em. I’m kidding.”

(She’s not kidding.)


	193. Chapter 193

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe prompt idea based on the thumb ring theory thing. Like basically one of them notices the other had the ring too and asks if it signifies something important and that's how they come out to each other or something? Idk you can choose the way it goes, I just like the idea of the thumb rings.

Chloe has a ring on her thumb.

Beca noticed it when she was in the shower—well, she noticed a lot of things about Chloe when she was in the shower. But she keeps thinking about this one.

(Actually, she keeps thinking about… everything else, too. But that’s not important.)

It’s probably presumptuous: Girls can wear rings on their thumbs and it doesn’t  _necessarily_ mean that they like girls.

But Beca can dream.

Except then she actually becomes friends with Chloe, and she keeps doing things that make Beca suspicious—namely touching Beca on various body parts, but there are also lingering glances, and winks, and flirtatious jokes.

Beca tries to be subtle and not-awkward about it, but “I like your ring. Does it have any… special meaning?” probably isn’t it (if Chloe’s raised brow is anything to go by).

“Are you trying to ask me if I’m into chicks, Bec?” Chloe asks, amusement edging her voice.

 _Busted_.

“No,” Beca lies, but she can’t think of an excuse off the top of her head as to why she would be asking. She’s also pretty sure she’s blushing.

“I haven’t really labeled my sexuality,” Chloe tells her casually, as if they’re discussing the weather—and maybe for Chloe it  _is_ that nonchalant. “I think of myself as very fluid.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “I, uh…” She looks down into her lap, because she can’t talk about this if Chloe is going to  _look_ at her like that. “I’m not really sure what my, um, sexuality is yet.”

“That’s okay,” Chloe says gently, placing a hand on Beca’s. Beca chances a glance at her face—expression warm, eyes soft. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” Beca says softly, and— _ugh_ —she’s getting the stupid butterflies in her stomach.

“But if you ever want to experiment…” Chloe trails off, winking.

Beca stares at her openmouthed, sure she’s heard incorrectly. “Um.”

Chloe breaks into a grin and lightly smacks Beca on the arm. “You’re so cute when you get flustered.” She laughs, then asks, “Do you want to watch Grey’s Anatomy?”

Beca can only nod weakly.


	194. Chapter 194

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca is actually super sporty despite the fact she can barely lift her ass off the couch to reach for the remote, and Chloe finds out in two instances: 1. abs and 2. teaching children sports.

Beca is lazy.

Beca likes to think that she’s an “energy conservationist,” or “anti-movement”—but she’s just lazy.

Seriously, the girl nearly took Chloe’s head off once throwing a shoe at her door so she wouldn’t have to get up to close it.

Which is why Chloe is very, very confused by the events unfolding in front of her.

First of all, Chloe never thought she’d see Beca voluntarily come within fifteen feet of a child—yet here she is, teaching en eight-year-old how to kick a soccer ball in a straight line as opposed to wildly off to the side.

And Chloe was the one who had to drag Beca’s ass down to this damn park.

It’s amazing to watch, and not just because Chloe’s surprised that Beca hasn’t yet tripped over her own feet: Beca is gentle and patient, explaining in simple, step-by-step instructions how the little girl needs to swing her leg, slapping her five for every attempt regardless of where the ball ended up.

It’s strangely very attractive. 

“Since when do you play soccer?” Chloe asks as she unlocks the door to the Bellas house.

Beca shrugs. Her forehead is glistening with sweat and a few strands of hair have escaped the confines of her messy bun. “I played in high school.”

“You played soccer in high school?” Chloe blurts; it’s probably rude, but the most physical activity she’s seen Beca ever do (outside of Bellas practices) is run away from a spider scuttling around the floor of her bedroom.

“Don’t look so surprised, Beale,” Beca says, but she’s smiling amusedly as she lifts the hem of her t-shirt to wipe her face.

And reveals a  _very_ defined set of abdominal muscles.

Chloe doesn’t realize she’s staring—openmouthed—until Beca asks worriedly, “What is it?”

“You…” Chloe’s having trouble forming a coherent sentence as her brain melts into a puddle of goo, assaulted with images of Beca covered in sweat as she chases a soccer ball, or glowing red with exertion as she does sit-ups, or arching her back as Chloe licks her—

Never mind.

“Nothing,” Chloe says, forcing herself to look away and willing the heat rising in her body to go down.

Beca looks at her strangely for a moment, then shrugs. “Okay.” She heads for the stairs leading up to her room. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Me, too,” Chloe says.

It’s going to be a cold one.


	195. Chapter 195

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovechild AU with Chloe being the stricter parent and Beca being so whipped by Emily that she does whatever Emily asks.

Beca usually has no problem saying no to people.

Actually, “no” is usually her favorite word.

So why can’t she ever say it to Emily?

“You have to just be firm with her,” Chloe says, but all Emily has to do is look at Beca with those  _eyes_ and say, “Pleeeease?” and Beca’s gone.

Chloe is actually quite strict. She has rules—which is rather odd, considering that she never seemed to respect boundaries before.

Beca  _tries_ to follow said rules—only two cookies a day, bedtime at ten, no television after eight—but Emily has Chloe’s ability to make Beca feel guilty for refusing.

“Mom?” Emily asks her one evening.

“Yeah?” Beca says, glancing over her shoulder as her hands continue to scrub a pot in the sink.

“There’s this TV show that’s on at eighty-thirty,” Emily says casually.

“Em, your mom says no TV after eight,” Beca tells her, avoiding looking Emily in the eyes.

“I know,” Emily says, moving next to Beca and leaning on the counter. “But I _really_ want to watch this show, and it’s just this once…”

Beca can feel her resolve breaking, her hands stilling in the sink. “Maybe you should ask your mom.”

“But she’s gonna say  _no_ ,” Emily whines. “If you say yes, then she can’t get mad at me.”

“No, then she’ll get mad at  _me_ ,” Beca says. 

“But  _Mooom_ —”

“Emily—”

“ _Pleeeeease?_ ” Emily begs, hands clasped under her chin, eyes wide. “I’ll love you forever and ever.”

“Ugh,” Beca groans, “ _fine_.” She hates herself for giving in, but she still smiles when Emily squeals and gives her a big hug.

“Thank you, Mommy!” she says, bouncing up and down.

“Turn the volume on low, okay?” Beca whispers. “I’ll try and keep her upstairs.”

Emily nods and then darts off into the living room.

* * *

“What did you do?” Chloe asks her as soon as Beca steps into the bedroom, where Chloe is reading a book in bed.

 _Dammit._ “What? Nothing,” Beca says, trying to look innocent.

“You have your guilty face on,” Chloe says, putting the book down and eyeing Beca suspiciously. “Did you break something?”

“No,” Beca says. At least it’s the truth.

“What’s Emily doing?” Chloe asks next, and Beca freezes. “What did you let Emily do?”

“Nothing!” Beca denies, and Chloe raises an eyebrow in what Beca has dubbed her  _do you think I’m an idiot?_ face. Beca squirms under her gaze—she’s a historically bad liar, and Chloe has always been able to read her like a book.

“Okay,” Beca says, caving. “She’s watching just  _one_ TV show—”

“Goddamn it, Bec,” Chloe huffs, throwing her book down and getting out of bed. “You  _know_ there’s no TV after eight.” She starts marching down the stairs.

“Please don’t get mad at Em,” Beca says, chasing after her. “It’s my fault.”

“Oh, I’m  _gonna_ be mad at you,” Chloe promises with a wink. “You can count on it.”


	196. Chapter 196

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please do one where Chloe and Beca are in a friends-with-benefits thing, but Chloe starts dating Tom so Beca asks her to choose between her and Tom, Chloe chooses Tom, so Beca moves on and Chloe realizes she made the wrong choice but she can’t fix it?

Chloe isn’t quite sure how she found herself in this situation.

It’s technically not  _wrong_ —agreeing to a friends-with-benefits arrangement is inherently casual, and therefore having said arrangement with two people is not cheating.

So why does it feel like it is?

It works for awhile: Tom doesn’t seem to mind, although Chloe suspects he pretends to be more apathetic than he actually is. Beca is allergic to commitment—she legitimately started sneezing the one time Chloe tried to suggest that they become something more.

Chloe is pretty sure that Tom loves her; he always texts her back right away, and he buys her flowers for no reason and watches her favorite movies over and over again because he knows it makes her happy.

Chloe can’t gauge how Beca feels about her.

She knows that there’s  _something_  there, as Beca is very…  _into_ the benefits side of their relationship. But Beca is also standoffish and distant, even if she is less so with Chloe than she is with anyone else.

Chloe just doesn’t know where she stands with Beca, and she’s the kind of person who likes to know things for certain.

So when one night Beca whispers that she can’t handle Chloe two-timing, asks her to make a choice, Chloe chooses Tom.

She thinks she’s happy. She’s not  _un_ happy. 

Beca doesn’t talk to her for three weeks, which is quite a feat considering that they spend six days a week practicing in the same room. And then one day Beca gets over it—well, she acts like she does. There’s still sad, lingering glances and muttered bitter comments, but she starts dating that Jesse kid that Chloe always sees hanging around her.

And it’s then that Chloe realizes that she’s screwed up.

Because seeing Beca with him hurts—the first time Chloe spots them walking across the green hand-in-hand she physically  _can’t breathe_. She dreams of Beca at night, even though she desperately does not want to. She hate-stalks Beca’s Facebook page, angrily flipping through the photos of them together. It’s unhealthy, but she can’t stop herself.

Chloe doesn’t know what to do; Beca has clearly moved on, and it would be unfair and wholly inappropriate for Chloe to tell her  _now_ that she made the wrong choice. All she really can do is pray every night that they break up.

She doesn’t tell Tom any of this—she desperately needs him to distract her from Beca. Chloe can’t lose him, too.

He’s all she has left.


	197. Chapter 197

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We somehow got stuck overnight in an IKEA and I just want to go to sleep in one of the display beds but you're slowly convincing me that it'd be fun to see how much shit we can get into before the morning staff open up the store" AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Ingvar Kamprad

IKEA is a very confusing place.

First of all, everything is in Swedish—which makes it difficult to remember exactly what furniture item Beca’s looking for.

It’s also a very, very large store, and it’s set up like a maze.

One could very easily get lost inside.

(And by “one,” Beca means herself—Beca is lost. In IKEA.)

Beca seriously questions who closes at night because somebody definitely  _should_ have heard her scream when the lights all suddenly snapped off.

“What the fuck…?” Beca mutters, turning on the flashlight feature on her phone. “IS THERE ANYONE HERE?” she shouts as loudly as she can.

“Yep!” someone yells back, and Beca jumps. She hadn’t been expecting a response.

 _What if this is someone’s elaborate plan to kill me and I’ve just handed myself over?_ she thinks as she hears footsteps approach. But she can’t think of anyone who wants her dead—except maybe her high school algebra teacher.

(Long story.)

The girl who finally appears in the harsh light of Beca’s flashlight seems pretty tame. 

“Hi,” she says, friendly and nonchalant, like she’s not locked in a darkened IKEA.

“Um, hello,” Beca says, eyeing her warily.

“I’m Chloe,” the girl introduces herself.

“Beca.” Beca looks around at the sea of display beds and crates of pillows and sheets. “We appear to be locked in.”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Chloe asks excitedly.

Beca stares at her for a moment. “No.”

Chloe either doesn’t hear her or ignores her. “Ooh, you know what would be fun? Playing hide and seek.”

“No thanks,” Beca says, turning around and plopping down on the first bed she can find, sinking into the plush duvet. “I’m just going to sleep.”

“That’s no fun,” Chloe complains.

“Neither is being stuck in an IKEA,” Beca grumbles. 

Chloe sits down next to her, and Beca can’t help but notice that Chloe smells  _really_ good.

“Or,” Chloe continues, and Beca’s starting to suspect she doesn’t understand the meaning of the word  _no_ , “we could rearrange all the displays and watch people be very confused tomorrow morning.”

Beca opens her mouth to deny her once again, but she does love a good prank. And she loves confusing people even more. Plus, it’s not like she’s ever going to have this opportunity again. “Okay, fine.”

Chloe squeals—actually  _squeals_ —and claps her hands. “Let’s do it!”

It’s a lot more manual labor than Beca had realized, moving various pieces of furniture around the store, but it’s actually fun. Chloe seems to be having the time of her life, although she most likely acts like that regardless of the activity. She’s probably one of those weird people who actually likes the dentist.

It’s too dark for Beca to really see what they’ve done, but it just looks like they’ve made an enormous mess. She’s exhausted, and she checks the time on her phone: 2:56 am.

“I’m gonna try and get a couple of hours of sleep,” Beca says, climbing onto the bed they’ve just shoved in the middle of a kitchen display. She sets her alarm for 6:00 am; they’re going to have to hide from the staff in the morning so they don’t get arrested.

“Me, too,” Chloe says, flopping down next to Beca.

Beca looks at her. “There are plenty of other beds if you want your own.”

“I know,” Chloe says, kicking off her shoes and sliding under the blanket.

Beca supposes she could just go and find another bed herself, but something in her makes her stay and settle down next to Chloe.

* * *

Beca and Chloe hide among the children’s furniture the next morning and watch the staff scratch their heads as they move all of the stuff back to where it came from.

It’s immensely amusing.

Before they sneak out, Chloe kidnaps Beca’s phone from her pocket and adds in her number. “In case you want to do this again sometime,” she explains.

Beca just shakes her head; of course Chloe’s idea of a date would be breaking into an IKEA.

Maybe they should try coffee first.


	198. Chapter 198

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe breaks up with Beca because she thinks she can do better, but years later Beca is super successful and happy, and Chloe ends up unhappy and regretful?

It’s funny how Chloe has found herself here: following Beca’s life through social media outlets and small-scale tabloids like her teenage groupies.

And not funny in the sense that Chloe wants to laugh—funny as in fake smiles and lonely dinners and steps weighted down with regret.

So maybe it isn’t funny in any sense of the word.

Chloe had never expected Beca to become this successful.

It’s mean, but it’s the truth. Maybe Chloe’s a mean person. Maybe she’s a bad person. Maybe she’s a jealous person. Maybe she’s a regretful person.

Maybe they’re all the same thing.

Chloe hadn’t ever imagined that the seedy, hole-in-the-wall recording company where Beca spent so many hours doing God knows what would actually turn into  _this_. 

Chloe never thought that the missed dinners and forgotten plans and cold nights falling asleep alone because Beca was too “wrapped up at work” would actually pay off.

Perhaps breaking up with Beca was rash; perhaps it was harsh. But it felt like Beca was dating her job, and Chloe lost her patience.

She thought she could do better. She thought she  _deserved_ better.

Apparently the person who can sit and watch the person she supposedly loves completely break and beg for a second chance and  _refuses to give one_ does not, in fact, deserve better. The person who watched as Beca looked up at her, absolutely destroyed, and whispered, “But I love you,” does not deserve better. The person who blankly stared at the television as Beca stuffed her belongings into a backpack and walked out of Chloe’s life forever—she doesn’t deserve better. 

It’s funny that Chloe thought she did—and this time she does mean funny in the laughable sense. Because her life is a joke.

She desperately wishes that Beca hadn’t met such success—not because Chloe is jealous (even though she is), and not because she wishes she were right (even though she does), but because having to see Beca’s face and hear Beca’s voice everywhere she turns  _hurts_ too much.

Except Chloe secretly hopes that Beca never leaves the limelight.

Because it’s the only way Chloe is ever going to have her.


	199. Chapter 199

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part II of this prompt:
> 
> Could you do one where Chloe or Beca walks in on the other cheating? Whether they make up or not is up to you.

Beca wanders aimlessly for awhile, backpack weighing heavily on her shoulders and thoughts weighing heavily on her mind. She’s not sure why she isn’t crying; she feels numb, like she’s moving underwater. It doesn’t feel real.

She’s several blocks away from her apartment when she realizes that she doesn’t have anywhere  _to_ go. Everyone she’s known from Barden has long since left, and Beca’s been too busy to make friends.

Except there is one person.

The apartment door swings open a few moments after Beca knocks.

“Beca?”

Emily looks nearly the same as she did in college, but she has a more mature air about her: She stands straighter, shoulders rolled back, and her hair is now cut to just below her shoulders.

“Um, hi, Emily,” Beca says, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asks, looking confused, but she steps aside to let Beca in all the same. 

“Can I maybe crash here tonight?” Beca ignores Emily’s question, her voice small and hesitant.

“Uh, sure,” Emily says, still staring at Beca questioningly.

“Thanks,” Beca says, and her voice sounds very far away.

And then she sits down on the hardwood floor and starts to cry.

“Oh, God,” Beca hears Emily mutter, followed by the fading sound of her footsteps. Beca doesn’t even look up to see where Emily has gone; she doesn’t particularly care, although she is kind of sorry she’s getting snot all over Emily’s floor.

Emily returns a minute later with a box of tissues and sits down next to Beca, awkwardly wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Beca tenses, then wills herself to relax; she doesn’t want to make Emily feel bad, even if her touch burns Beca’s skin.

“Chloe cheated on me,” Beca finally chokes out. 

“Oh, God,” Emily says again. “Do you want me to kill her? Not, like, literally, because I don’t advocate violence and also that’s illegal, but she—”

“Legacy?” Beca interrupts.

“What?”

“Shut up.” Beca adds as an afterthought, “Please.”

“Okay.”

* * *

Beca is staring blankly into her coffee (in Emily’s ridiculous “a cappella is my co-pilot” mug) the next morning when there’s a knock at the door.

Emily frowns, looking up from her cereal. Beca had managed to fill her in on all of the sordid details last night only after she’d sobbed extremely unattractively for two hours on the floor of her hallway (and, briefly, in her shower).

“I don’t know who that would be,” Emily says, mostly to herself, as she stands to answer.

The long beat of silence after Emily opens the door tells Beca exactly who is there even before she hears Chloe say, “Is Beca here?”

Beca freezes; part of her feels nauseous at the sound of Chloe’s voice, but another part of her wants to wrap Chloe up in her arms and forgive her.

Beca isn’t sure which part of her is going to win out.

“Um,” Emily says, looking over her shoulder at Beca. Beca rolls her eyes; Emily couldn’t be more obvious if she had yelled “YES” in Chloe’s face.

“It’s okay, Em,” Beca says tiredly. Her eyes are still red and her hair is a mess from falling asleep with her it wet last night, but she doesn’t particularly care.

“You sure?” Emily asks, and Beca nods. “Okay,” she says, “I’ll just be somewhere that’s… not here.” The door shuts and Beca is alone with Chloe.

“What are you doing here, Chloe?” Beca asks, her tone flat and cold. She also wonders how Chloe even found her here, but that doesn’t seem important.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Chloe says quietly. She looks about as bad as Beca supposes she looks, and it gives her a tiny flutter of satisfaction.

“Okay.” Beca stares at her. “Is that all?”

“Can we maybe… talk?” Chloe looks almost hopeful, and for some reason it angers Beca.

“Alright, Chloe, let’s  _talk_ ,” Beca says, a fake smile on her face. “I come home from a long business trip with flowers because I love you and I wanted to surprise you. Instead, I find you fucking some hobo in the bed that  _I bought_. And guess what?” She laughs bitterly. “It’s not some meaningless one-time thing—you’re been screwing this guy behind my back for  _months_ , lying to my face every day. You’ve been having this guy over in  _my apartment_ and still telling  _me_  that you love me. I think you’ve had plenty of time to talk.”

“But I do love you,” Chloe insists, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I made a mistake, and I’m so, so sorry. It won’t ever happen again.”

Beca looks at her, at the woman who used to give her butterflies in her stomach instead of roiling rage and disgust. “That’s the issue, Chloe. I don’t believe you.”

“Beca—”

Beca stands and walks over to Chloe very slowly. Chloe looks back at her uncertainly, but then Beca cups her face gently and kisses Chloe softly, sweetly on the lips. Chloe’s eyes are closed when Beca pulls away, leaning forward slightly in an effort to find more contact.

“Goodbye, Chloe,” Beca says, stepping back, whirling around, and walking away, into Emily’s bedroom.

She hears a soft  _thud_ as she shuts the door, and she thinks it might be Chloe falling to her knees.

But she doesn’t care.


	200. Chapter 200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of them is on their period and the other takes care of them.

Like clockwork, Beca always spends an entire day crying the day before she gets her period.

It’s weird—it’s very, very weird—but once a month, Chloe comes home to find Beca curled up in her bed sobbing into her pillow, an old episode of Grey’s Anatomy playing on her laptop.

(”Why do you do this to yourself?” Chloe always asks; “I don’t know,” Beca wails back.)

So Chloe just sighs, rolls her eyes, and heads back out to pick up two pints of Ben & Jerry’s.

If you ask her about it, Beca will deny it. But Chloe finds it absolutely adorable.

When she enters her room and sees a sniffling Beca scrunched into a tiny ball under the covers, Chloe doesn’t even have to look at the screen to know what she’s watching. “Plane crash?”

“Yeah,” Beca says, her voice hoarse. 

Chloe picks up the box of tissues from her desk and climbs onto the bed, wrapping her arms around Beca. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Beca says quietly. Her eyes are red and watery and her mascara is seriously smudged, but Chloe still thinks she looks beautiful. She turns in Chloe’s arms so she can rest her head against Chloe’s shoulder, ignoring her laptop as the person on the screen screams in anguish.

Chloe shudders; she’s always had a hard time watching the particularly depressing episodes. But she’ll put up with it if it means being able to hold Beca like this, listening to the even (if not snuffled) sound of her breathing. “You smell good,” she whispers. Beca always smells like lavender and warmth and something that Chloe can’t quite put her finger on but makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“I haven’t showered in two days,” Beca whispers back.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Maybe you should do that soon, then.”

“You just told me I smelled good,” Beca points out. “You’re sending me mixed signals here, Beale.”

“Shut up,” Chloe tells her. There’s a beat of silence followed by a ragged breath, and then Beca starts crying again.  _Shit._ “Oh, Bec, I’m sorry,” she says frantically. “I didn’t mean to—”

Beca’s crying turns into laughter. “You’re such a sucker.”

Chloe pulls back so she can look at Beca, who is grinning wickedly back at her. “I’m leaving,” Chloe huffs, moving to sit up. 

Beca’s arms tighten around her. “No,” she whines. “Don’t.”

Chloe sighs dramatically—like she would  _ever_ seriously leave Beca when she’s like this, even if she is laughing. “Okay,  _fine_. I guess.”

They lie in silence for a long while. Then, “Chlo?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” Beca says, so soft that Chloe can barely hear it.

Chloe presses a kiss to the top of Beca’s head. “No problem.”

“Also,” Beca continues, “I’m noticing a distinct lack of ice cream in here.”

Chloe can’t help but laugh. “You’re such a pain.”

“But you love me,” Beca says cheekily.

Chloe just shakes her head. That’s a discussion for another day.


	201. Chapter 201

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Imagine person A of your OTP teaching person B their favorite hobby," with Beca teaching Chloe how to mix music.

Beca doesn’t let people touch her stuff—and she  _especially_ doesn’t let people touch her mixing equipment.

She bought the equipment with her own money that she made babysitting her neighbor’s two bratty children after her parents dismissed her interests as a waste of time. And  _man_ , that shit is expensive.

Also: It’s hers. So hands off.

Chloe… is different.

Beca lets Chloe break her own personal rules—such as “thou shalt not steal my fries.” Or “thou shalt not touch my hair.” Or “thou shalt leave at least six inches of space between us at all times.”

(Although, technically, she didn’t agree to the latter.)

But when Chloe asks, “Can you show me how you do your mixes?” Beca finds herself answering, “Yes.”

Beca tilts her laptop screen so Chloe can see, and feels the warm weight of a head resting on her shoulder. It makes her fingers fumble at her keyboard for a moment, pressing the wrong button and exiting the program.

“Whoops,” Beca mutters, goosebumps breaking out over her skin when Chloe giggles in her ear. “So you have to make sure that the songs are on key or harmonized,” she says, and she feels Chloe nod against her shoulder.

“Fascinating.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Then whatever song you want to set as the tempo you import first.” Chloe’s eyes track the mouse on the screen as Beca does just that. “And then you import the one you want to blend with it. And then you beat-map them both.”

“Okay,” Chloe says, letting Beca know she’s following. Her hair is tickling the underside of Beca’s jaw, and it’s very distracting.

“And then, um, you split it at different spots and line up the vocal tracks.” Beca clicks around the screen, tapping some numbers into her keyboard. “And voila.”

“Can I try?” Chloe asks.

“Sure.” Beca slides the laptop over to Chloe’s lap, coaching her through the steps. Chloe’s lower lip catches between her teeth, her forehead adorably scrunched in concentration. It does weird things to Beca’s stomach.

Chloe grins at Beca triumphantly when the file is finished. “Shall we listen?”

Beca nods and hits play.

The sound that comes out of the laptop sounds very much like two off-key songs playing at the same time. Beca knew this would happen; she just didn’t have the heart to tell Chloe that she was doing it very, very wrong. Chloe had seemed so excited at the prospect of making her own mix.

“Oh, well.” Chloe doesn’t seem to disappointed at the result. “I guess there’s only one Beca Mitchell. How silly of me to try and emulate you.” She grins and pecks Beca on the cheek. “Thanks for trying to teach me.”

Beca’s skin tingles where Chloe’s lips were, and her gaze flicks down to Chloe’s lips, lingering there for a moment before tearing her gaze away. “Anytime.”

When Chloe isn’t looking, Beca deletes the file.

She doesn’t want her other mixes to get offended.


	202. Chapter 202

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Our bathrooms are next to each other so when I showered you showered as well and holy shit you're moaning."

Beca is not a fan of this whole  _communal bathrooms_ thing. 

They’re great for people who like camping or people in prison, but Beca is a civilized human being. She values her privacy.

And  _now_ she’s always half-expecting Chloe to come barging into the stall, although she hasn’t exactly sorted out how she feels about that  _incident._

So when the bathroom door opens and Beca hears footsteps padding towards the showers, she tenses for a moment, only relaxing when the person heads into the stall next to Beca’s.

The first time she hears it, she barely even registers the noise. But then it gets louder, more insistent, and Beca can’t pretend like she doesn’t know exactly what her neighbor is up to, especially because a quick check under the stall reveals that there is only one person in there.

Beca cringes, feeling strangely guilty even though whomever this is  _chose_ to do this in an occupied, public space. Still, she shampoos as quickly as she can. And then—

“ _Beca.”_

It sounds like…  _Chlo_ e?

Beca freezes, her blood running both hot and cold at the same time, stomach twisting. Shampoo runs down her face, falling in sudsy clumps at her feet, but she can’t seem to make herself move.

Chloe moans again, and Beca’s mind is assaulted with  _extremely inappropriate_ images of her friend that she can’t seem to block out.

 _This is some Norman Bates shit_ , she scolds herself. (Jesse had made her watch  _Psycho_ , and while it wasn’t half bad, it’s part of the reason why Beca is wary of communal showers.)  _Finish up and get out_.

Beca forces herself to do just that, sticking her head underneath the spray of the shower to try and drown out Chloe’s gasps and moans, which are coming more frequently and higher in pitch. 

“Be…  _ca_!” Chloe cries out brokenly, signaling to Beca that she’s… finished.

Moving as quickly as she can, Beca turns off the water and gathers her things, wrapping her robe around herself and her towel around her hair. In her haste to leave, though, she drops her shower caddy, sending her bottles clattering to the floor.

“Shit,” Beca mutters to herself, stuffing everything back into the basket with shaking hands. She’s about to make a mad dash to the door when the shower curtain pulls back, revealing a towel-clad Chloe.

Beca stares at her, feet glued to the floor. She opens her mouth to say something, desperate to alleviate the awkwardness, but no sound comes out.

Chloe looks at her for a long moment. Then she smirks and winks at Beca before sauntering out of the bathroom.

Beca stands there for a few minutes, jaw slack. 

What the hell just happened?


	203. Chapter 203

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where, somehow or another, Beca ends up hooking up with Jesse? Either after her and Chloe have a fight, or maybe she just tries to sneak around on Chloe with Jesse? Either way, Beca cheats on Chloe with Jesse.

Beca hates being vulnerable, and she hates being needy.

But right now, she is both.

Somehow, it leads her to Jesse’s doorstep.

It’s not that she can’t handle fighting with Chloe—they’ve had fights in the past. Every relationship endures fights.

But the words, “God, Beca, you can’t do anything right!” are ringing in her ears, and she’s desperate for someone to tell her otherwise.

So she goes to the only person who thinks she can do no wrong—even if the act of going to him  _is_ wrong.

Beca’s not in the mood to appreciate the irony right now.

Jesse is a good guy. Well, maybe right now Beca isn’t really helping that case. But Jesse is a good guy. He’s gentle, and he holds Beca in his arms as she cries.

Maybe it’s  _because_ Jesse is a good guy that he doesn’t try and stop Beca when she kisses him, sloppy and desperate and fervent. He does pause to ask, “Are you sure about this?” but he otherwise helps Beca out of her clothes and into his bed.

Beca feels like her insides are going up in flames, like there’s broken glass lodged in her chest that stabs into her every time she breathes. She hates herself, feels disgusted with herself. But she craves the way Jesse whispers, “You’re so beautiful, Beca,” and “you’re perfect,” and “I love you.”

It rips her apart; it puts her back together.

It rips her apart again.

She lies awake long after Jesse drifts off to sleep, one arm slung protectively around Beca’s middle, wondering how she came to be such a horrible person.

* * *

Beca was sure Chloe would look at her and just  _know,_ especially since Beca didn’t come home until around noon the next day.

But Chloe just hugs Beca and apologizes. The words  _do you forgive me?_ are like a punch to the stomach; Beca can barely breathe, let alone speak, so she just nods.

She scrubs her skin until it’s red and raw when she showers, trying to wash away the guilt.

Then she laughs to herself because she can’t. She obviously can’t. Soap won’t kill the seed of guilt in her stomach that blossoms into a fully grown tree, its branches reaching to every inch of Beca’s body.

It’s torture, but she deserves it.

She watches Chloe as she sleeps, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek with every peaceful breath Chloe takes.

She’s destroyed the person she loves, and Chloe has no idea.

And Beca doesn’t plan to tell her; she’s too selfish.

Plus, she figures this is more punishment than Chloe leaving her ever could be.


	204. Chapter 204

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Beca are divorced with a five-year-old child (Emily). Beca is broke, becomes homeless, and sees Chloe and Emily all the time. She hides somewhere they won’t see, and then ten years later Beca is sitting on the grass by the lake in a park and Emily sees her.

It’s pretty sad to be a voyeur on your own family’s life.

Or what used to be your family, anyway.

Beca’s not quite sure how it’s come to this.

Well, logically she knows what happened—even with friendly divorces, it’s expensive. And then when the record label where she worked went under, moonlighting as a DJ in skeevy clubs wasn’t enough to make ends meet.

It turns out that the real world really is as scary as people say: It will chew you up and spit you right back out.

Beca  _can’t_ let Chloe see her like this—and, more importantly, she can’t let  _Emily_  see her like this.

She doesn’t want Emily to think that Beca’s abandoned her; Beca knows firsthand the sting of forgotten birthdays and missed Christmases. 

So she lies and says that she moved to LA for work and buys one of those pay-as-you-go cell phones solely to keep in contact.

She knows that Chloe is suspicious when Beca can’t even provide her with a mailing address or the name of the company for which she works, but Chloe doesn’t push.

It kills Beca to keep up the charade, especially when she can still  _see_ Chloe and Emily around town—at the Dunkin’ Donuts or in the park or coming out of the post office.

Beca always ducks into the bathroom or around the corner or behind a car when she sees them. She just needs more time to figure this out.

* * *

“More time” quickly turns into ten years.

Ten years of birthdays.

Ten years of first days of school.

Ten years of singing lessons and soccer practice and ballet class.

Ten years of joy and sadness and heartbreak and anger and laughter and love.

Beca has missed all of it.

As far as Chloe and Emily are concerned, Beca’s still in LA—not in some cheap, seedy apartment in downtown Atlanta working at a McDonald’s during the day and bartending at night.

Beca kissed her music dreams goodbye about seven years ago.

Beca doesn’t know why she’s still living this pretend life. Maybe she’s still holding out hope that something better will come along. Maybe she doesn’t want to embarrass Emily; maybe she doesn’t want her daughter to know that she’s a failure.

Maybe Chloe and Emily are better off with Beca out of their lives.

Beca still likes to come down to the park where she used to sleep all of those years ago; she looks out over the lake and she can feel at peace, at least for a little while.

“Mom?”

The voice is so hesitant, so disbelieving; it’s been so long since Beca’s been called “mom” that she doesn’t even react until Emily walks right up to her.

 _Shit_.

“Mom, is that you?”

Beca blinks. “Um, hi.” She doesn’t know what to do—Emily’s seen her. She’s caught.

Every fiber of her being wants to scoop Emily—her  _child_ , now a teenager—into a hug, but she feels like she’s probably lost that right.

“What are you doing here?” Emily looks incredibly confused. “Why didn’t you tell us you were back from LA?”

Beca can’t even begin to answer her questions; she wouldn’t know where to start.

“Mom?” Emily’s puzzlement morphs in to hurt. Anxiety. “Why haven’t you called?”

“I…” Beca wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans. “Can I… hug you?”

She’s not sure why she’s even asking. Well, she does know why—she’s missed Emily. She’s missed Emily so much. She would see her face everywhere— _literally_. The guilt would eat her alive.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” Emily says hesitantly, like she doesn’t know if she can hug  _Beca_.

Beca takes a step forward and cautiously wraps her arms around her daughter for the first time in ten years.

“I love you, Em,” she whispers.

“I love you, too, Mom,” Emily replies.

Beca still has a  _lot_ of explaining to do, and she fears she’ll lose Emily permanently once she relays the entire story.

But for the moment, it’s enough.


	205. Chapter 205

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe gets a job a stripper to try to make Beca jealous and it bothers Beca but she thinks it makes Chloe happy so she doesn’t say anything about it.

Chloe is a stripper.

There’s no way around it: Chloe takes her clothes off for an audience for money.

Chloe is a stripper.

Beca isn’t okay with it; it keeps her up at night sometimes, picturing middle-aged men drooling over Chloe’s exposed skin as she sways her hips and drops it low.

When Chloe comes home, her perfume just barely covering the scent of sweat and cigarette smoke and something warm and sticky that Beca can’t identify, it makes Beca’s stomach twist.

Beca decided to stay in Atlanta with Residual Heat after graduation and Jesse went to LA, and that was okay, because Beca had Chloe.

But she didn’t think that she’d be forcing herself to stay awake until 2 am, holding her breath until Chloe walked through the door and Beca could see for herself that Chloe was home safe, unharmed.

Beca just doesn’t understand  _why_ Chloe decided to do this. She had thought that when Chloe had mentioned exotic dancing at the retreat she was joking; never in a million years did Beca think it would become a reality.

Beca walked by the strip club where Chloe works once. She could only look at it for about five seconds before she felt like she was going to throw up.

She worries about Chloe all the time, but she doesn’t feel like it’s her place to say anything.

So she stays quiet.

Beca did ask Chloe once, a couple of weeks after she took the job: “Why?” And then, “Does it make you happy?”

“It pays well,” Chloe had said with a shrug, but something in her eyes told Beca that that wasn’t the full answer. “Why? Does it bother you?” She said it in challenge, almost like a dare. She’s fishing for something, but Beca can’t tell what.

“No,” Beca said quickly, and she noticed the tiny, brief flicker of disappointment that crossed Chloe’s face. “I just… worry sometimes.”

“I’m fine,” Chloe had said with a smile that looked fake. 

And Beca dropped it.


	206. Chapter 206

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where a very pregnant Chloe wakes Beca in the middle of the night, aroused due to pregnancy hormones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Chloe’s been having these dreams.

Rather explicit dreams.

She doesn’t know if it’s the hormones, or maybe not being able to see her own feet is driving her a little nuts, but she wakes up—like clockwork—at 3 am every night, sweaty and out of breath and… well. Turned on.

It’s nothing new—it’s more frequent, but it’s not new. 

The issue that Chloe has now is that she can’t  _reach_ around her stomach to finish what her sleeping brain has started.

She loves this baby, but right now she kind of hates it.

It’s on one of these nights that Chloe awakes with a start, panting and warm all over. She stares at the ceiling for a moment, regaining her bearings, blinking away the grogginess.

It takes her approximately five seconds for the throbbing between her legs to become a distraction.

Usually, Chloe just clenches her thighs together, rolls over, and tries to ignore it.

It is quickly becoming clear that that isn’t going to be an option tonight.

Straining, Chloe tries to reach around her belly to slip her hand between her legs. She can reach, but the angle is awkward and after a moment her shoulder starts to ache. 

This isn’t going to work.

Chloe lies still for a few minutes, debating whether she should wake Beca. She glances over at her sleeping wife, watching the steady rise-and-fall of her chest as she breathes peacefully. Chloe wouldn’t mind if Beca did it, but she feels guilty for even considering waking her up for  _this_.

It only takes another couple minutes of fumbling for her resolve to break. 

“Bec,” she whispers, shaking her shoulder. “Beca, wake up.”

“Huh?” Beca’s eyes open slowly. “Wha?”

“Are you awake?” Chloe asks. What she really means is  _are you coherent?_

“Yeah,wassup?” Beca mumbles, rubbing at her eyes. “Is something wrong?” Her face clouds with panic. “Is it the baby? Is it coming?”

“No, everything’s fine,” Chloe assures her.

“Then what is it?” Beca’s starting to look annoyed.

In lieu of an answer, Chloe grabs Beca’s hands and guides it between her legs.

Realization dawns on Beca instantly. “Oh.”

“I can’t reach,” Chloe says, pulling her hand back and resting it on her stomach. “I’m sorry to wake you up for this, but…” She trails off.

“No, it’s okay,” Beca says, shifting into a more comfortable position.

Chloe inhales sharply as Beca’s fingers slip through the wetness, alternating between light and firmer pressure as she rubs circles around Chloe’s clit.

Eyes closing, Chloe feels vaguely dirty doing this in front of the kid, even if the kid is still inside of her and has absolutely no idea what’s going on. 

She’ll have to remember to apologize once it’s born.

“Beca,” Chloe whines, squirming on the bed. She’s close already, and she doesn’t think she can take any more of Beca’s teasing. 

“What?” Beca asks innocently, pressing down harder, smirking when Chloe’s back arches. (Well, as much as she can under the circumstances.)

“I’m pregnant. Be nice to me.”

Beca chuckles and shifts her hand to very slowly, very gently slip one finger inside. Chloe cries out, feeling her muscles contract. Her hands fist in the sheets, searching for purchase. She tosses her head back, moaning, before moving her hands up to cover her own breasts.

Beca adds a second finger and Chloe spreads her legs wider, almost forgetting to breathe when Beca circles her thumb over Chloe’s clit insistently.

Another minute and Chloe is gone, groaning Beca’s name as her muscles begin to convulse and the waves of pleasure wash over her. She feels the baby kick inside of her and,  _yeah_ , she’s going to Hell.

Beca crawls back up and wraps her arms around Chloe as she catches her breath, little aftershocks still twitching in her legs.

“Thank you,” Chloe breathes after a moment. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

Beca smiles and nuzzles her nose into Chloe’s neck. “Thanks for carrying my child.”

Chloe turns her head to place a kiss on Beca’s forehead. “It’s my pleasure.”


	207. Chapter 207

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I feel like NYLA by Blackbear is Bechloe AF. It could be like a song that Beca produces or something. You know those crazy nights as a DJ and trying to make ends meet. That and the slight time change really affects their relationship but she's gonna make it work even if it means calling Chloe in the middle of the night and leaving her messages when she misses out or when they're fighting or whatever the case.

Three hours might not seem like a very big time difference. 

It could be worse; Chloe could be in… Australia. Or something.

But even something so relatively small is noticeable.

When Beca’s up at 7 am drinking her coffee, Chloe is still fast asleep. When Beca gets home from work at 6 pm, Chloe’s still at her job. Or when Chloe is settling down for bed at 10 pm, Beca’s dead to the world in her bed, exhausted from trying to please ten people at once all day.

Beca hates it: She hates being away from Chloe. She hates not seeing her every day. She hates not touching her every day—and not just in terms of sex (although,  _God_ , she misses that, too); Beca misses the hugs and kisses and falling asleep wrapped in someone’s arms. 

It takes her twice as long to get to sleep now.

It’s only temporary, she keeps reminding herself. As soon as the school year ends, Chloe will move to LA with Beca.

She just has to be patient.

But it’s hard—it’s really, really hard.

Especially when they have fights.

They don’t fight often—not the yelling, crying, testing-the-relationship kind of fights. But Beca has an affinity for saying the wrong things at the wrong times, and she can hear the little sharp intake of breath through the phone that tells her that Chloe didn’t appreciate whatever obnoxious little comment Beca made this time.

Beca can never sleep after they’ve had an argument; she can’t sleep knowing that Chloe could be in pain—and that it’s Beca’s fault. 

She has a habit of leaving ten-minute-long voicemails at 3 am, just so she can go to sleep knowing that she tried.

If Chloe were here, Beca would just surprise her with pancakes in bed the next morning followed by a little groveling and a lot of sex.

But she can’t do that.

So Beca does the next best thing: She writes Chloe a song.

Beca sends the .mp3 to the local radio station in Atlanta she knows Chloe listens to every day on the way to work. The people there know Beca’s name—they’ve heard Beca’s work—and they agree readily to play it in the time slot Beca gives them.

 _You’re in Atlanta_  
I’m in L.A.  
I drive to work  
You take the train  
My heart it burns (yes it burns, yes it burns)  
We’re oceans away  
I’ll be asleep at the time you’re awake (by the time you’re awake)

 _You’re in Atlanta_  
I’m in L.A.  
You’re in Atlanta  
I missed you today  
So bad that it hurts  
My heart it burns, yes it burns  
2800 miles away  
And I’ll be asleep by the time you’re awake  
So I’m calling to say  
  
I know that you’re hurt  
I know I’m to blame  
But I’ll make it work  
I’ll make you stay  
Until that day I’m one plane ride away  
From Atlanta to L.A.  
I’ll be one plane ride away from New York to L.A.  
‘Til you stay

Beca just crosses her fingers and hopes that Chloe will hear it.

She doesn’t have to wait long—her phone rings approximately three minutes after the time the radio station promised to play the track, and Beca smiles to herself.

“I love you,” is the first thing that Chloe says when Beca picks up.

Beca smiles.

They’re going to be just fine.


	208. Chapter 208

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you have time or anything could you do a prompt, if you're still doing them based off this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAEkxSOkR5s ?

Beca doesn’t “do” feelings.

It’s messy, and it’s complicated, and it always ends with someone crying or getting hurt or angry.

Detached is better. Emotionless is safer. 

Or, at least, that’s what she keeps telling herself.

Beca thinks that she  _could_ love Chloe—perhaps in another life where her father didn’t abandon her and her so-called best friend didn’t spread vicious rumors behind her back and her last few boyfriends didn’t dump her for the next best thing.

But she’s stuck in this life, and she’s going to shield herself.

It would be easier if Beca didn’t let their relationship cross the line from friends to fuckbuddies, but she would rather have meaningless sex with Chloe than not have Chloe at all.

She’s balancing on a very thin tightrope, but Beca doesn’t care. 

It’s supposed to be casual. It’s supposed to be just for fun. It’s supposed to be just skin on skin. Primal. No feelings involved except pleasure, ecstasy, and sometimes pain.

But then, one night, Chloe asks Beca to stay. 

“Sorry, I can’t,” Beca says, pulling away and sitting up, turning away from Chloe. Her heart is starting to pound, and suddenly she realizes that she’s in too deep.

“Why not?” Chloe asks quietly. She sounds scared but also determined. “It’s a Friday night. You don’t have class tomorrow.”

“I just can’t,” Beca snaps. She stands and paces around the room, locating her clothes from where they’d been flung twenty minutes before.

“Can’t or won’t?”

Beca yanks her shirt over her head. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Chloe says.

Beca hesitates, and Chloe seems to take that as an answer.

“Do you care about me, Beca?” She doesn’t sound challenging or accusatory—Chloe just sounds tired. Sad.

“This was supposed to be casual,” Beca says. It’s not an answer to Chloe’s question, but it’s the one she gives. “No feelings, remember?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Chloe says softly, almost like she doesn’t want Beca to hear it.

Beca does turn and look at Chloe now: She’s staring down at her hands, which are twisting the sheet nervously. “Chloe…”

“I like you, Beca,” Chloe whispers desperately, looking up to meet Beca’s eyes. “I want more with you.”

The words sink heavily in Beca’s stomach. Pain her. Knock the breath from her lungs.

“I…” Her mouth opens and closes reflexively. “I  can’t.”

“Can’t or wont?” Chloe asks again.

Beca stuffs her feet into her shoes and gives one last long look at Chloe.

“Can’t.”

And then she’s out the door.


	209. Chapter 209

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this tweet: https://twitter.com/poemporns/status/630755800999415808

Chloe thought Beca was the love of her life, the person she would be with forever. She saw herself exchanging vows with Beca, having children with Beca, growing old with Beca.

Dying in Beca’s arms.

Maybe it was stupid to put so much stock into one person. Maybe it was stupid to hope that they would last forever. Maybe it was stupid to think that Beca would stay.

She didn’t, of course. 

They lasted a good couple of years, but in the end they were both just exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

It was a relatively amiable split, although sometimes the thought of Beca bring with someone else still feels like a stab to the chest.

It’s really difficult to forget a person that used to be a part of you: Chloe still finds herself picking up a box of Beca’s favorite cereal at the grocery store sometimes.

So when Jesse texts her  _I’m gonna steal your ex-girlfriend_ , it still kind of hurts.

Chloe knows it’s probably supposed to be a joke; she’s actually come to like Jesse in the time she’s known him. He’s a nice guy, and he cares about Beca, and he’d always been respectful of their relationship.

But for some reason Chloe can’t just laugh it off.

She decides to answer in more than just an  _okay_ or a  _haha_.

 _Well then_ , she types,  _there’s a few things you need to know._

_Beca loves Taylor Swift. She’ll deny it, but she does. Put it on when you’re driving and nine times out of ten she’ll end up singing along._

_She doesn’t really like going to the movies, but she complains less if you buy her a blue sushie and Sour Patch Kids._

_She pretends she thinks flowers are stupid, but she secretly loves them. Daisies are her favorite, but she likes roses, too._

_Don’t wake her up before 8 am unless you have coffee. She likes iced coffee better than hot, with cream and sugar._

_Kiss her on her neck and under her ear and on her shoulders. Hold her hand when you’re sitting next to her but not when you’re out walking in public. She’ll tell you that she doesn’t like people playing with her hair but if she’s sleepy she likes it._

_If she calls you after midnight it means she doesn’t want you to pick up. If it’s an emergency, she’ll text first. Sometimes she likes to leave sweet voicemails for you to wake up to. (Don’t do this to her, though, because she never turns the sound off on her phone and she’ll get pissed if you wake her up.) She likes little handwritten notes instead._

_She really loves red pandas. Don’t question it. Send her cute photos and videos during the day._

_If she’s upset and you ask her if she wants to talk and she says no, she means it. When she’s ready to talk, she’ll come to you._

_Don’t ever bring up her father. Just don’t do it._

_Buy her new headphones and she’ll love you forever._

Chloe pauses, then deletes the last line. A tear slips down her cheek as she finishes the message:

_Take good care of her, Jesse. She deserves it._


	210. Chapter 210

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will you do one where either Beca or Chloe are in a fatal car accident? + Would you mind doing a fic based on Grey's Anatomy S11E21 with Beca as Derek and Chloe as Meredith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major character death

Chloe isn’t a fan of clichés.

People might assume that she’s into the romantic-comedy, time-stands-still, kiss-in-the-rain kind of thing.

Well, she actually probably  _would_ enjoy being kissed in the rain. But she’s not going to be doing that anytime soon.

Because there’s a police officer at her door, and he says Beca is dead.

(Well, she’s almost dead. Essentially dead. Brain-dead. Which is dead enough.)

Her car stalled in the middle of the road, right in the path of an oncoming semi.

Beca didn’t stand a chance.

And time literally does stop, just for a moment. The world freezes around Chloe, stilling her heart and her breath. She feels like she’s underwater, the voice of the officer distant and garbled.

She has a newfound hatred for that cliché.

She feels like she’s watching herself from above, like she’s in a dream—and that would make sense, because this is a nightmare.

But there’s a hand on her arm, and she can feel it: ice cold yet burning her skin through her shirt.

It snaps her back to reality.

Her throat burns, and Chloe realizes she must have screamed. So when the officer offers to drive her to the hospital, she just nods.

Chloe almost doesn’t recognize Beca when she sees her.

Well, she does: She knows the curve of her jaw, and the point of her nose, and the slope of her mouth. But this isn’t  _her_ Beca, the Beca  _she_ knows. This Beca is covered in cuts and scrapes and bandages. She has tubes and wires protruding from her arms and her chest and her mouth.

This is nothing like she could have ever imagined when she vowed to stand by Beca “in sickness and in health.”

It’s strange, and it’s difficult to wrap her head around—this whole Beca-being-dead-thing. Because her skin is still warm to the touch and her chest still rises and falls steadily, albeit with the aid of a ventilator.

Beca is dead, but she’s alive. She’s here, but she’s not.

Chloe wonders if Beca can feel how her hands shake and the tears that fall onto her skin. If she can hear Chloe’s choked sobs.

Carefully, painstakingly, Chloe presses a gentle kiss to every scratch, every cut, every abrasion. She wonders if Beca can feel that, too.

Chloe wonders if Beca is in pain. She wonders what Beca thought in those final seconds of horror as she saw the truck hurtling towards her car.

Chloe wonders if Beca thought of her.

Chloe doesn’t think she’ll ever think of anyone else for the rest of her life.

She doesn’t know how long she sits there, holding Beca’s hand, desperate hoping and wishing and  _praying_ that suddenly she’ll feel Beca squeeze back.

It doesn’t come.

Before she says her final goodbye, Chloe signs the organ donation sheet.

Maybe somebody else can get a life out of this.


	211. Chapter 211

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: A friend was asking me what Beca’s favorite album was and I started shooting off bad jokes like Justin Bieber. Then I said Kidz Bop. And something happened. I was like: Beca isn’t sentimental at all. But there’s this album that her parents gave her when she was a kid. An old Kidz Bop. And it’s really bad and lame and awful to listen to, but she plays it. All the time. Just getting lost in the feelings and the memories that it brings back. Memories of a time when she was whole.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

Beca snatches the CD back from Chloe’s grip.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Beca grumbles. Chloe notes that the tips of her ears are growing red. “I know you’d make fun of me.”

“Oh, come on,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes. “If  _my_ favorite album were some Kidz Bop CD from 2002, I would never hear the end of it.”

“Thanks, Chlo,” Beca snaps, looking away. “Real reassuring.”

 _Whoa, okay_. That seemed to have hit a nerve. “I’m sorry,” Chloe apologizes quietly, sitting down next to Beca on her bed. “I was being a dick.”

“Yeah, you were,” Beca mutters, but Chloe lets it slide.

“Why…” Chloe thinks for a moment, trying to figure out how to ask the question without offending Beca. “Can you tell me why it’s your favorite?”

Beca looks down at the CD in her hands. The case is cracked and the edges of the little paper insert are curled and faded. “My dad gave it to me the Christmas before he left,” she answers softly after a minute of silence. 

Now Chloe  _really_ feels like a dick.

“Let’s listen to it.”

Beca looks up, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What?”

“Let’s listen to your CD,” Chloe says, taking Beca’s hand. “I want to listen to it with you.”

“Are you sure?” Beca asks hesitantly. 

“Yes,” Chloe says firmly, giving Beca a gentle smile. “I want to share this with you.”

“O-okay,” Beca says. She pulls out her laptop and slides in the CD, glancing nervously at Chloe as if waiting for her to change her mind.

It’s… It’s definitely Kidz Bop. No way around that. 

But it’s something that’s special to Beca, something that holds a lot of meaning for her. And Chloe wants to be a part of it.

(She’ll make Beca a mix CD with  _good_ music on it later.)


	212. Chapter 212

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a prompt of Beca and Chloe's sons being all-star hockey players and them having to watch their games holding their breaths the entire times bc of how physical the sport is?

Chloe blames Beca for this particularly poor act of parenting.

Okay, it might be  _partially_ her fault because she  _did_ agree to this whole hockey thing, too, but it’s easier to point the finger at Beca as she watches her sons getting slammed up against the walls of the rink.

“How could you allow them to do this?” Chloe hisses, although she’s gripping Beca’s hand tightly.

Beca looks at her in disbelief. “You signed the permission slip, too, Chlo.”

“Whatever.”

Chloe knows it’s just a game and that their kids are more at risk for injury crossing the street than playing hockey, but she still can barely watch most of the time. 

There was one occasion where some kid had hit Justin so hard his tooth cracked, Beca had had to stop Chloe from forwarding their dentist bill to the kid’s mother.

Plus, the arena always smells like feet.

“Who’s winning?” Chloe asks Beca. She hasn’t particularly been paying attention.

“I resent the fact that you assume that I know anything about this sport,” Beca mutters, but her eyes are bouncing between their kids. Her lower lip is caught between her teeth—something Beca only does when she’s nervous.

_Wham!_

Chloe looks up just in time to see Justin go down hard, and when he doesn’t immediately get back up, she and Beca both leap to their feet. 

Chloe’s about to storm the ice when Justin hauls himself back up, staggering for just a second before skating after the puck.

Chloe deflates, sinking back onto the bench.

“Next time,” she says to Beca through clenched teeth, “we’re signing them up for piano lessons.”


	213. Chapter 213

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and/or Chloe are youtubers and they record each other doing challenges and doing vlogs (similar to Shannon (nowthisisliving) and her girlfriend Cammie)

It was Chloe’s idea.

Beca is generally a fairly private person. Or she  _was_ , before she started dating Chloe.

Chloe is very much the opposite of a private person: She has approximately 537 photos up on Instagram and God-knows-how-many tweets. The YouTube channel wasn’t much of a stretch.

By extension, Beca gets roped into these kinds of things.

Some things she doesn’t understand—like why Chloe likes to film her, say, brushing her teeth or eating breakfast. (”Because you’re cute,” Chloe says, and Beca supposes she can’t argue. Chloe does look pretty damn adorable stuffing pancakes in her mouth while still half-asleep.)

But this? This is—

“—stupid,” Beca grumbles. “Whose idea was it to stick cinnamon in their mouth anyway?”

“Oh, come on, Bec,” Chloe says, leveling the camera and zooming in. “It’ll be funny.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

Chloe shakes her head. “I have to man the camera.”

“That’s what you say every time you want me to do something weird,” Beca points out.

“Because it’s always true,” Chloe says. “Now be quiet and stick it in your mouth.”

“That’s what—”

“Just do it, Bec.”

“Ugh,  _fine_ ,” Beca groans. She looks warily down at the spoon in her hand.  _One… two… three!_

Her first thought is that she’s dying.

Her second is that okay, she probably isn’t, but she’s going to  _kill_ Chloe.

The cinnamon burns her mouth and the back of her throat, and she’s barely taken the spoon out before she starts coughing and sputtering, cinnamon flying out of her mouth and forming a cloud around her head.

And all that bullshit about “manning the camera”? That’s not true.

Because Chloe is on the floor laughing her ass off, camera completely forgotten.


	214. Chapter 214

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovechild AU prompt I think you'd do a great job of writing: Toddler Emily loses her pet rock. (Yes, her pet rock. It has a name and everything.) And she forces Chloe and Beca to go all-out to help her look for it.

It’s not that they don’t  _want_ to get Emily a pet.

It’s just that Beca hates all animals on principle and Chloe is allergic to most things with fur and a fish is really more of a burden than a pet.

So what they end up with is—

“Our child adopted a rock.”

Chloe shrugs.

“Is this normal?” Beca presses. “Because the fact that I’m looking for a  _rock_ is a little weird to me.”

“Oh, shush,” Chloe says, pawing through Emily’s toy box. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s cute until she rips your fucking head off if we don’t find this damn rock,” Beca grumbles. She pokes around in the elaborate dollhouse Chloe spent  _way_ too much money on. “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t get her a real pet if she can’t even keep track of a rock.”

“Mama!”

Beca turns to see Emily in the doorway, something that looks suspiciously like cookie crumbs ringing her mouth. Beca wonders for a moment if this wasn’t some diversion to get into the cookie jar.

“Have you found him yet?” Emily asks.

Beca’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Him?”

“Mr. Rock.”

 _Original_ , Beca thinks.

“No, honey, not yet,” Chloe says. “Do you mind if we look for him la—”

“No!” Emily shouts. “You have to keep looking!”

“But—”

“Now!”

 _Jesus Christ_. When did her child turn into such a little monster?

Emily hovers over them like a fucking prison warden as Beca and Chloe practically tear apart the playroom, the living room, and Emily’s bedroom.

“Can we just go outside and get another rock?” Beca hisses. She feels like Emily should be cracking a whip or something.

“She’ll notice,” Chloe whispers back.

It would be funny if it weren’t true.

It’s nearly dark outside by the time Chloe finally shouts, “Found it!”

_How the fuck did that get into the dryer?_

Emily comes over to inspect the ovular stone in Chloe’s hands. “That’s not it,” she says seriously, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fu—”

“Just kidding!” Emily grins and snatches the rock out of Chloe’s hands, skipping out of the room. “Thank you, Mommy!”

Beca stares after her in disbelief.

“Well,” Chloe says, “she’s definitely your child.”

Beca grabs a t-shirt off of the top of the dryer and smacks her with it.


	215. Chapter 215

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to recruit members for my club but you keep stealing away all my potential recruits AU

Chloe Beale is a ridiculous human being.

She acts like this whole club fair thing is a competition, and the winner with the fanciest presentation and the most candy wins.

Beca’s pretty sure that’s ninety percent of the reason anyone is signing up, because who the heck would actually  _want_ to be in an a cappella group anyway?

She doesn’t understand why people are choosing the Barden Bellas over the Barden DJs (the disc jockeys, not to be confused with the deaf Jews): Her club is about making music and producing new sounds—not singing covers of top-40 hits.

Anyone who  _actually_ appreciates music would understand that.

But not Chloe, because anyone who even  _breathes_ near Beca’s booth gets immediately whisked away by Chloe and her Twix bars and her national championship spiel and her cheesy  _sisterhood_ speech.

Beca’s had enough.

“Hey,” she says after Chloe intercepts  _yet another_ freshman, “stick to your own table, ‘kay?”

Chloe frowns, looking puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“You,” Beca says slowly, “stealing all of my recruits.”

“I am doing no such thing,” Chloe denies.

“Yes, you are!” Beca insists. “Every time someone comes to look at my table you come in here and start talking about  _your_ group.”

“Oh,” Chloe says. “My bad.”

Beca just rolls her eyes. 

“What’s your club about?” Chloe asks. Beca absently notes that Chloe has the bluest eyes she’s ever seen.

“Making music,” Beca says. It’s not a particularly good description, but she’s still kind of annoyed.

Chloe’s eyes light up. “So are we! But with our mouths.”

“That’s nice,” Beca tells her. She hates how she finds Chloe’s enthusiasm endearing.

“We should totally collaborate sometime!” Chloe says excitedly. “Like, you guys could take a mix and we’ll sing it.”

“I don’t think—”

“It would be so much fun!” Chloe’s practically bouncing up and down at the idea, and Beca just doesn’t have the heart to say no.

“Alright,  _fine_ ,” she grumbles. And then—”Oof!”

Chloe engulfs Beca in a hug. Beca stands stiffly until Chloe pulls back, but she’s surprised to find that it wasn’t  _terribly_ unpleasant.

Stealing a pen from Beca’s table, Chloe grabs Beca’s hand and scrawls ten numbers onto her palm in blue ink.

“There,” Chloe says, releasing Beca’s hand. “Now you have my number.”

Beca watches in somewhat of a state of shock as Chloe snags another couple of freshman and starts talking to them animatedly.

What did she just agree to?


	216. Chapter 216

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe prompt: little Emily got in trouble at daycare for hitting someone. Chloe is furious but Beca is hysterical.

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you there,” Beca says, biting her lip in an attempt to keep from laughing but failing miserably. “I think it’s hilarious.”

“I know,” Chloe huffs exasperatedly. “You laughed about it for fifteen minutes straight.”

Beca shrugs.

“Our child  _hit_ another child and you’re laughing about it.”

“Oh, come on,” Beca says, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. “I punched a guy in the face in college and I’m fine.”

Chloe stares at her. “You ended up in  _jail_ , Beca.”

“ _Not_ for punching the guy,” Beca says, pointing a finger at her wife as they walk up to the preschool. “For destruction of property. Which, by the way, wasn’t my fault.”

“You’re making me feel  _so_ good about this,” Chloe says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She probably picked up that habit from Beca. 

Beca’s not a huge fan of the preschool. It’s not that she doesn’t like  _this_  particular preschool—she just generally tries to avoid places where children congregate.

Chloe makes a beeline for Emily’s teacher as soon as they enter the classroom to apologize. It prolongs their stay by about fifteen minutes as Chloe chatters away.

“Mommy!”

Beca looks down to see Emily smiling up at her. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Why you here?” Emily asks. She has marker smudged on her hand.

“Well, your teacher called us to say you hit one of your friends,” Beca tells her, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s not my friend,” Emily says sternly, crossing her arms.

“Okay, okay,” Beca says, holding her hands up. “Can you tell me  _why_  you hit him?”

“He said that ‘Flashlight’ was a bad song,” Emily says, naming the latest single Beca’s produced. “So I hit him.”

And then Beca  _really_ loses it: laughing until tears gather in the corner of her eyes, practically doubled over.

They get booted from the preschool pretty quickly afterwards, but honestly, Beca’s never been more proud of her child.


	217. Chapter 217

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe compete in a gymnastics competition as enemies. One made a bet with the other: if they win then the loser will have to go on a date with the winner. (One is a sore loser and the other is a big tease.)

This was all Chloe’s idea.

Obviously, it was—Beca can’t  _stand_ the girl, so she certainly would not have made any sort of bet including a date.

Plus, placing a bet on a gymnastics meet is stupid.

(Just don’t ask why Beca agreed to it.)

Of course she fell on beam. Beca  _never_ falls on beam, but this time she did.

Half a point, down the drain.

And so she finds herself second to one Chloe Beale.

“Congratulations, Beca,” Chloe says after awards are over. Beca can’t help but note how the blue tones in her leotard complement her eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” Beca says, rolling her eyes. “You’re only saying that because you came in first.”

Chloe shrugs. “You still got a thirty-seven all-around.”

“Could’ve been a thirty-eight,” Beca grumbles.

“Buuut,” Chloe says, drawing out the word, “you get to go out with me!”

“Woo,” Beca says flatly.

“Oh, come on,” Chloe tells her. “I’m going to take you out to a nice restaurant, and then we’ll go to my favorite ice cream place for dessert.” 

Beca merely raises an eyebrow.

“And then I’ll take you back to my place.” Chloe’s voice drops to a breathy whisper now, and Beca shivers. “And I think”—she leans closer to Beca—”that you’ll find my bed very…”

Beca’s eyes fall shut at Chloe’s words, and suddenly all animosity is forgotten.

( _No_ , she’s  _definitely_ not picturing Chloe splayed out on her back on top of her bed, hair spread around her like a halo as Beca—)

“…neatly made as I give you a quick tour before you go home,” Chloe finishes, pulling away. Beca can see she’s smirking smugly.

Beca’s mouth falls open in disbelief, but she quickly closes it again. All she can manage to squeak out is an, “Okay.” 

“Great!” Chloe says brightly, but her smile tells Beca she knows  _exactly_ what she’s doing. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

And then she flounces away.


	218. Chapter 218

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca is becoming more successful with her work, and Chloe became more and more insecure because she thought she couldn't keep up with Beca. (Fluff ending.)

It’s strange riding in the passenger seat of someone’s success.

Beca’s not technically famous—or, really, not  _yet_. She’s not getting stopped on the street or approached in restaurants. But Chloe suspects that’ll be happening soon.

Chloe isn’t jealous, exactly. Well, she kind of is. But it’s not like there are famous music teachers for underprivileged children, so she doesn’t really envy Beca’s professional success.

It’s more the idea that everyone wants a piece of Beca when the whole of her is supposed to belong to Chloe, and Chloe only.

Chloe isn’t worried that Beca will be unfaithful. She’s more concerned that she’ll become some kind of burden: Beca Mitchell, producer extraordinaire, and her un-famous, boring, normal girlfriend Chloe.

So when Beca comes home practically jumping for joy with the news that she’s just signed to produce an album with  _the_ Snoop Dogg (Beca worked with him in college or something, apparently), Chloe can barely muster the energy to smile.

“What? Is something wrong?” Beca asks, taking in Chloe’s half-grimace. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe says mildly, even though anxiety is gnawing at her stomach. “I’m happy for you.”

It’s not a lie; Chloe  _is_ happy for Beca. She’s always thrilled to hear about whatever rung Beca has reached this week. It just… scares her.

“You don’t look happy,” Beca says. “Chlo, what’s wrong?” 

Chloe opens her mouth to insist that  _nothing is wrong_ , but what comes out is a choked sob.

And then she’s crying, and she’s crying  _hard_ —the ugly, loud, Leonardo-DiCaprio-just-died-in- _Titanic_ sobs.

“Whoa, whoa,” Chloe hears Beca say, and then there are arms wrapping around her and squeezing. 

They sit like that—Beca wrapped around Chloe like a koala clinging to a eucalyptus tree—for a long while until Chloe’s crying subsides to sniffles.

“I just…” Chloe’s voice comes out rough. “I just don’t want you to forget about me.”

“Why would I forget about you?” Beca sounds puzzled. “How would I forget about you?”

“Because you’re gonna be successful and famous and working with all of these stars and I’ll just be… a teacher,” Chloe says quietly, resting her head on Beca’s shoulder.

Chloe can feel Beca shake her head. “That’s ridiculous. You’re…  _Chloe Beale_.”

Chloe frowns. “What’s that mean?”

“You’re… you!” Beca insists. “I wouldn’t be able to forget about you if I tried, dude.”

Chloe laughs a little. “If you say so.”

_“Won’t you come see about me?  
I’ll be alone, dancing you know it baby.”_

It takes a second for Chloe to recognize what Beca is singing, quietly under her breath.

_“Tell me your troubles and doubts.  
Giving me everything inside and out.”_

The tiny smile Beca had been able to coax out morphs into a grin as Beca sings the chorus:

 _“Don’t you forget about me._  
Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.  
Don’t you forget about me.”

Chloe is full-on laughing by the time Beca is done, and she kisses her on the nose, saying, “Thank you.”

Beca just grins at her, her cheeks a little red like they always are when she does something kind of cheesy.

She’s an idiot, but Chloe loves her.


	219. Chapter 219

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe comes home from her nursing job late and she hears something upstairs so she creeps up and finds Beca reading to Emily as she falls asleep. She waits so she can let Beca enjoy it but then Beca sees her and stops.

Chloe’s first thought is that nobody should be up this late.

Beca’s an adult and can stay up as late as she wants, but Chloe assumes she isn’t talking to herself (and she hates talking on the phone), so that means Emily must be awake as well.

Chloe follows the sound to Emily’s bedroom; the door is slightly ajar and the dim light of Emily’s night light shines through the thin crack. She’s about to push the door open and scold the both of them, but something makes her hesitate.

Peeking through the crack, Chloe can see Beca is…  _reading_ to Emily?

It’s not an unusual thing for the parent of a six-year-old to do, but it  _is_ an unusual thing for  _Beca_ to do. (”That’s why they make audio books, Chloe.”)

They look so adorable: Emily is curled under Beca’s arm, eyes half-closed, as Beca flicks the pages with her thumb and reads in a steady voice.

Cautiously, Chloe pushes open the door. “Hey,” she says softly.

Beca jumps a little, jolting Emily and almost losing her place in the book. “Shi—shoot, Chlo. You scared me,” she says, and moves to get up.

Chloe holds up a hand. “No, it’s fine,” she says, and Beca settles back against the pillows. “Why are you guys up so late?”

“Emily couldn’t sleep.” Beca shrugs—or shrugs as best she can with her arm around her daughter. “She wanted me to read.”

Chloe grins. “That’s so—”

“Don’t,” Beca warns.

“—cute,” Chloe finishes, sticking her tongue out playfully. 

Beca just gives her a  _look_. 

“Mommy,” Emily says sleepily, snuggling in closer to Beca, “are you going to keep reading?”

“Sure, baby,” Beca says, picking the book back up. 

Chloe hides her smile behind her hand. Beca is so whipped by their tiny child.

“You, too, Mama,” Emily says, gesturing for Chloe to come over to the bed.

Chloe shifts on her sore feet. “Honey, I just got home from work and I’m really tired—”

“ _Please_?” Emily asks.

“Oh, okay,” Chloe agrees, climbing under the covers and squeezing into the tiny space between Emily and the edge of the bed.

Beca smirks at her.

Chloe supposes she’s pretty whipped, too.


	220. Chapter 220

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a Bechloe prompt based on the song "I Can Do Better Than That" from The Last Five Years (preferably Chloe as Cathy and Beca as Jamie)?

Chloe doesn’t generally think of herself as a lucky person.

Actually, she thinks of herself as a particularly  _un_ lucky person: She’s the girl with the flat tire on the side of a highway half an hour late to an important job interview and counting.

(That may or may not be a true story.)

So when Chloe found Beca, she almost couldn’t believe it.

Beca is sweet, and thoughtful, and smart, and beautiful, and completely unlike anyone Chloe has ever dated.

Beca is the kind of girl who tries to make Chloe pancakes for breakfast and then buys her chocolates as an apology for burning all of them.

She’s kind of a doofus, but it’s refreshing.

Chloe hasn’t had the best track record when it comes to relationships: There was her high school boyfriend, who cheated on her and ended up getting that girl pregnant. (Chloe supposes she dodged a bullet there.) Then there was the guy she dated in college who dumped her to run off with his English professor. And then, most recently, there was the girl who was completely committed to and invested in their relationship for a whopping six months before she blew Chloe off in a letter penned in blue ink, left on her pillow. 

Chloe found it after waking up—alone—after a night of mind-blowing sex.

Needless to say, she was a little wary of getting in too deep with Beca.

But Beca… truly seems like the thing that Chloe has been searching for (and wading through so much shit for) her entire life.

Perhaps mumbling, “Move in with me,” mid-sex wasn’t the greatest way to broach the subject, but it’s out there and there’s nothing Chloe can do to take it back now.

“What?” Beca’s brows knot together and Chloe can’t tell if it’s from confusion or from the fact that Chloe’s fingers are stilled inside of her.

“Move in with me,” Chloe repeats. Her voice grows louder, stronger. “I want you to move in here.”

Beca’s hips are shifting restlessly against Chloe’s hand, and Chloe thinks that maybe this was actually a rather smart play. “O-okay. Sure.” She makes a rather obvious roll of her hips. “Can we stop talking?”

Chloe chuckles and twists her fingers in a way that makes Beca gasp. “Sure,” she says, nipping at Beca’s neck. “But I’m gonna ask you again later when you’re not so… occupied.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Beca breathes out. “Whatever you want.”

Chloe grins.

She’s feeling rather positive about this relationship.


	221. Chapter 221

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca is diagnosed with some terminal illness, and along the way with Chloe taking care of her, Beca kept pushing her away and throwing fits here and there, until one day she come along and lets Chloe take care of her, until her last moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of cancer, death, and blood.

“It’ll never happen to me.”

Five words. Everybody says them at some point or another—whether it’s about getting hit by a car or being crushed by a falling tree or even something as simple as failing a class.

Chloe’s said those words; Beca’s said those words.

Nobody expects cancer.

It’s hard to believe it’s happening even as the doctor stands in front of them with a paper in his hand and a solemn look on his face.

“You have cancer.”

The words keep Chloe awake at night, alternating between staring at Beca and staring at the ceiling.

“It’s stage four.”

She hears them in the shower, in the car, making breakfast.

“There’s not much we can do.”

They haunt her as she tries to work, but she can’t help wondering whether Beca will still be there when she gets home.

“We can keep you comfortable.”

Chloe can’t escape the words no matter how fast she runs or how hard she works or how loudly she screams. They completely consume her, but they don’t seem to affect Beca at all.

Beca had nodded slowly, her hand instinctively moving to cover her abdomen where she’d been having so much pain.

And she’s barely said anything since: In fact, the only words she’s said to Chloe are “yes,” “no,” and “I don’t care.”

It’s as frustrating as it is depressing. Beca is completely throwing her life away, and she won’t share what little she has left with the person she’d sworn to stand by “in sickness and in health.”

Chloe isn’t quite sure that vow applies to the sick person, though.

Chloe makes her meals, drags her into the shower, forces her to sit on the little balcony off of their apartment. Beca stares at her blankly through it all, passively agreeing to everything.

Until Chloe brings out her mixing equipment.

Beca backs away like it’s radioactive (which perhaps isn’t the best analogy for Chloe to be using). “Get that away from me,” she says, her voice low and tight.

“But I thought you might want to—”

“Get it away from me!” Beca yells, her voice raw with emotion. She turns away from Chloe, arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

Chloe takes a step back. This is the most she’s head Beca express since the diagnosis. “I just thought—”

“Thought what, Chloe?” Beca says, turning back around to look at Chloe. Her eyes are wet and red and absolutely destroy Chloe from the inside out. “That I’d maybe like to make one  _last_ mix?”

“Oh,” Chloe says, and suddenly she gets it: Beca doesn’t want her final mark on this world—music, relationships—to be from when she was so sick she could barely bathe herself.

Chloe thinks that perhaps she should respect that.

And then one night Beca wakes up screaming, doubled over in agony. There’s a spot of blood on the sheets that Beca’s hacked up, and her lips are ringed with red.

Chloe knows: It’s time.

She calls 911, and Beca clings to her hand desperately the entire ambulance ride to the hospital. From the grim looks on the faces of the doctors, Chloe knows that she’s going to be saying goodbye to Beca here, and she’s going to be saying it soon.

Beca makes it eight more days: eight more days of fighting with everything she had left in her. By the time she finally passed—wrapped in Chloe’s arms as Chloe hummed softly under her breath—Chloe could tell she was exhausted.

Chloe is so proud of her, and so,  _so_  grateful, because she knows Beca didn’t do it for herself.

This was Beca’s parting gift to her: a final sarcastic remark through her oxygen masks before she finally let go.


	222. Chapter 222

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe mini-fic based on "Chloe" by Emblem3 where Stacie is Chloe's sister and Chloe thinks Beca is into Stacie but really Chloe is the one Beca's in love with. (Jealous-InsecureChloe, slight Steca, Bechloe endgame).

Growing up in Stacie’s shadow is difficult. 

Chloe is never  _Chloe_ —she’s always “Stacie’s sister” or “the younger Beale-Conrad” or, more recently, “the hot one’s sister.”

It’s annoying, and it’s kind of rude. 

Stacie is tall and beautiful and model-thin and has all of the grace (and flexibility, Chloe has heard) of a dancer, and she’s naturally the one that people notice first.

It’s okay, Chloe tries to remind herself. She just needs a little separation, and plenty of people will want to be her friend for who she is, and not as just some sort of  _in_ with Stacie.

And, maybe, someone—someday—will actually be  _interested in_ her.

One step at a time.

But then there’s Beca.

Chloe likes Beca like Chloe hasn’t ever liked anybody else: She imagines this is how the girls in the Disney after-school shows feel, doodling their names in a heart in their notebook and getting all dolled up just to walk past the object of their affection.

In other words, Chloe has a crush.

(She hates it.)

But the worst part is is that Chloe sees Beca talking to Stacie in the hallway at school all the time. Sometimes Beca is already in the backseat of Stacie’s Jeep after the final bel rings. “We’re giving Beca a ride home,” Stacie mentions casually.

Chloe crosses her arms and stares sullenly out the window, completely ignoring all of Beca’s attempts to talk to her.

She’s just being polite; it’s not like Beca’s there to talk to  _her_.

Or Beca slides into the seat next to her in math class and tries to strike up a conversation; Chloe brushes her off, assuming it’s just a ploy to get closer to Stacie. 

Chloe might be a little bitter about it.

But then Beca asks her to the homecoming dance, and Chloe is very confused.

“Me?” she asks dumbly, even though Beca has literally just said  _Chloe, will you go to the homecoming dance with me?_ “Don’t you want to go with Stacie?”

Now  _Beca_ looks confused. “Stacie? Why would I want to go with Stacie?” She shakes her head. “Plus doesn’t she have, like, five guys battling it out Hunger Games-style to win her as their date?”

“But you’re always in our car or sitting with me,” Chloe says. “Why wouldn’t you want to go with her? Everyone  _else_  does.”

“Because I want to go with  _you_ , Chloe,” Beca says. Her cheeks are a little red, and Chloe infers that she doesn’t particularly like having to say this twice. “I don’t want to go with Stacie.”

“But then why were you— _oh_.” Realization dawns on Chloe: Beca was hanging around her for  _her_ , and not for Stacie. 

“ _Oh,_ ” Beca mimics, sounding a bit annoyed, but it’s overshadowed by the satisfied smirk on her face. “Not everyone is after your sister, you know.”

“Okay,” Chloe says. She hesitantly reaches for Beca’s hand, unsure if she’ll pull away. 

She doesn’t.


	223. Chapter 223

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey is Chloe’s ex, and Beca finds out that Chloe’s only dating her to annoy Aubrey. Chloe admits that she’s really fallen in love with Beca.

Beca hates liars.

Not the  _yes, of course I took out the trash_ or the  _yes, I did the reading, Professor_. She hates it when people lie about big things. Important things.

Things that could potentially hurt people.

Aubrey being Chloe’s ex is kind of an important thing to disclose.

Oh, and the fact that Chloe was dating Beca to make Aubrey jealous, or annoyed, or angry, or whatever.

Beca starts questioning  _everything_ about their relationship—every kiss, every touch,  every night spent wrapped warmly in Chloe’s arms.

And then there was that one time when Chloe whispered, “I love you” very, very quietly one night; Beca figured Chloe assumed that Beca was asleep.

She wasn’t.

And now she’s just confused.

“So everything… Our whole relationship was a lie?” Beca asks. Her voice is steady, calm; she can’t even summon the energy to yell right now. It’s like Chloe pulled out a drain plug, and any anger just flooded right out.

“No,” Chloe says. She keeps saying that: “No, Beca, I  _do_ want to be with you.” “No, Beca, it only  _started_ as a way to annoy Aubrey.” 

“No, Beca, please don’t leave me.”

Beca probably wasn’t  ever supposed to actually find this out; Chloe had admitted it to Stacie one night after they’d all had too much to drink. And then Stacie told Cynthia Rose who told Jessica who obviously told Ashley who told Amy who can’t keep a secret.

“But how am I supposed to believe you?” Beca crosses her arms. “You got with me to annoy your  _ex_ , and I’m supposed to just take your word for it?”

“I…” Chloe trails off and looks away.

“Why would I believe you?” Beca’s found her anger again, and the rest of the Bellas can probably hear her shouting. “Why would I want to stay with you?” Why would I—”

“Because I love you!” Chloe yells back.

Beca blinks in surprise, and Chloe looks taken aback as well. It passes, though, and Chloe meets Beca’s gaze, giving her a look of confidence.

“I love you, Beca,” Chloe repeats, her voice soft. “I’m  _in_ love with you. And I wouldn’t blame you if you want to”—her voice cracks a little—”leave me, but I do love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Since you first joined the Bellas.” Chloe says it with a little shrug. 

“Okay,” Beca says after a long moment.

“Okay?” Chloe says questioningly.

“Okay,” Beca says again with a tiny smile. “I believe you.”


	224. Chapter 224

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a prompt based on the song Ghosts by PVRIS?

Beca’s had rather intense nightmares for as long as she can remember. 

Well, her earliest memory about them was when she was four and absolutely terrified to go to sleep. She’d clung to her dad’s leg, begging him to stay with her through the night.

He’d just told her to go to bed, of course.

The dreams evolved as Beca got older: from monsters chasing her to house fires to car crashes to being murdered to watching her  _friends_ being murdered.

She always jerks awake, sweaty and breathless with a scream caught in the back of her throat.

Beca’s used to it; once she’s established that she is not dead and it was, in fact, a dream, she can calm herself down and try to go back to sleep within the hour.

But it’s different in the Bella house, especially with her habit of falling asleep in Chloe’s bed watching crappy reality TV shows on Netflix late at night.

This time, Beca is shaken awake to see Chloe’s face above hers, looking concerned.

“Bec,” Chloe whispers, although it’s unnecessary with how forcefully she’s pushing at Beca’s shoulder. “Beca, wake up.”

Beca gasps in air; she’d just been watching Chloe’s car flying full-speed off of a bridge, and she needs a moment to orient herself.

Her first thought is that Chloe is okay. She’s alive.

“Chloe,” Beca murmurs. She reaches up and touches Chloe’s face, just to be sure she’s real. “You’re okay.”

“I’m just fine,” Chloe whispers. She catches Beca’s wandering hand and laces their fingers together. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Beca says, and Chloe lies back down next to her, resting their joined hands on Beca’s stomach and her head on Beca’s collarbone.

“Your heart is pounding,” Chloe comments.

“I’m okay,” Beca says quietly, trying to slow her breathing to a normal rate. The feeling of Chloe’s skin on hers helps to ground her.

They lie in silence for a few minutes before Chloe speaks again.

“Do you get them often?” She doesn’t have to specify what she means.

“Yeah,” Beca says. She hopes that Chloe doesn’t press further; she doesn’t like talking about it. It makes her feel childlike. Vulnerable.

Beca feels Chloe nod. “I’ll stay with you.”

Beca’s not sure whether she means just for the night or all the time, but she doesn’t press further.

She’s content to just live in this moment.


	225. Chapter 225

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we do sick Chloe with a fever that makes Beca realize she's in love? Definitely some hurt/comfort. Bonus if sick Chloe is kind of a giant toddler.

Chloe is one of those people who just doesn’t get sick.

Seriously. Going on her fourth year at Barden, Beca has never seen her with so much as a little cold, even when all of the Bellas got the flu during Beca’s junior year. It’s uncanny.

So when Chloe wakes up one day coughing and shivering burning hot to the touch, Beca is very concerned.

“I’m not sick,” Chloe insists, although with her congestion it sounds more like “I’b dot sick.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you are,” Beca says, handing Chloe the thermometer. “Hold it under your tongue.”

Chloe gives her a loot. “I know how therbobeters work, Beca.”

“Good,” Beca says, plopping down on the bed. “Then you’ll shut up and put it in your mouth.”

“Is this how you talk to your sick friend?” Chloe grumbles, although it’s hard to take her seriously when she has a pink fuzzy blanket up over her head like a hood.

“So you  _do_  admit that you’re sick.” Beca crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow.

Chloe glares at her and sticks the thermometer in her mouth. It beeps after a moment, and Beca pulls it out.

“101.4,” she reads, turning it so Chloe can see it, too. “You are irrefutably sick.”

“Fide,” Chloe says, flopping back down in her bed. “Then you have to be dice to be.”

“When am I ever not nice to you?” Beca asks, pulling the blankets up to cover Chloe’s body. 

“At least three tibes a week.”

“Are you keeping track or something?”

“You told be that by hair looked like I’d stuck a fort in a socket,” Chloe says, coughing in between her words.

Beca bites her lip. She can’t deny that. “Your hair looks lovely today.”

It’s a lie and they both know it: Chloe’s hair is a sweaty mess, but she still manages to look stunningly beautiful. Even if there is snot leaking out of her nose.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Beca says. Chloe makes an  _mmph_ noise in response that Beca takes as a yes.

She manages not to burn herself with the kettle, which is an improvement over the last time she tried to use it.

“Here.” Beca props up Chloe’s pillows so she can lean against them.

“Thanks,” Chloe says, taking a sip and grimacing.

“Is it okay?” Beca asks.

Chloe nods. “Sore throat.”

“Oh.”

Beca hates seeing Chloe in pain—or, she supposes, in sickness. It hurts  _her_ how badly she wants to be able to make Chloe feel better, although there isn’t much that she can do other than making Chloe soup and handing her tissues. 

Even with a red nose and bed-head and her constant sniffling, Beca can’t help but think about how  _pretty_ Chloe looks.

“What?”

The sound of Chloe’s voice pulls Beca out of her thoughts. “Huh?”

“You were staring at be,” Chloe says.

“Oh, sorry,” Beca mutters, looking away. She realizes just how  _much_  time she spends thinking about Chloe.

“Will you rub by back?” Chloe asks quietly, like she’s afraid Beca will say no.

“Um, I guess,” Beca agrees hesitantly. Chloe’s eyebrows knit together slightly at the tone of Beca’s voice, but she turns over anyway.

Chloe’s skin burns Beca’s hands even through her shirt; it’s almost like her skin is magnetized, keeping Beca’s hands moving steadily up and down.

It almost terrifies Beca, but she doesn’t stop.

It’s then that she realizes it’s love.


	226. Chapter 226

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe meet at a bar and Beca Is really arrogant and Chloe finds it really attractive but she’s really really shy. But Beca is also interested in her and starts seducing her in the bathroom.

Chloe is intrigued by the girl across the bar.

It’s kind of cliché—and, really, who says that they met the love of their life in a  _bar_? 

But she’s really hot and there’s something  _about_ her that keeps drawing Chloe’s eye.

(It could be her hotness.)

Chloe thinks that she may have noticed her staring, because she’s smirking back, raising an eyebrow, almost daring Chloe to make the first move.

She won’t, of course. On top of her reluctance to pick  _anyone_ up at a bar, Chloe’s just not that great at talking to pretty girls. Well, she’s not very good at saying anything that isn’t, “Ummmm.”

She’s working on it, okay?

The girl’s gaze heats Chloe’s skin like she’s lighting Chloe on fire with just her look. After several long minutes, Chloe can’t take it. She slides off of her stool and strides quickly to the bathroom.

The  _clunk_ of the door falling shut behinds her gives her some comfort; Chloe braces her hands on the sides of the sink and stares at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks are tinged red and she wills herself to  _get her shit together_ and to stop being so affected by random strangers.

The door bangs open behind her and Chloe jumps; she whirls around to see the girl striding in. Quickly, Chloe pretends to busy herself with fixing her hair, but the girl just leans against the wall, arms crossed, and stares at her.

“What?” Chloe says self-consciously after a moment.

“Nothing,” the girl says casually. Her tongue pokes out to run over her upper lip and Chloe’s eyes track the movement. “Do you always stare at strangers like you want to fuck them?”

Chloe is sure she didn’t hear that correctly, but her heart momentarily stops beating (and then proceeds to beat erratically). “What?”

“Do you always stare at strangers like you want to fuck them?” the girl repeats, slower this time.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe apologizes, even though it’s not really an answer. She feels her face warming again, though she doesn’t know if it’s from embarrassment or the way the girl is staring back at her.

“So do you?”

Chloe blinks. “What?”

“Want to fuck me,” the girl clarifies. Her expression is cool, like she’s merely discussing the weather.

“Uh.” Chloe doesn’t even know how to  _begin_ answering that question.

Luckily, the girl does: She fists her hands in the material of Chloe’s shirt, pulling her closer and pressing their lips together.

It’s short but firm; the girl catches Chloe’s lower lips in between hers, biting at it softly as she pulls away.

“Think about it,” is all she says before she saunters out of the bathroom.

It takes Chloe a little while to realize that there’s something clenched in her hand. It’s a small paper napkin with something written on it—a phone number and a name.

 _Beca Mitchell_.


	227. Chapter 227

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe admits her feelings for Beca to one of the Bellas and Beca is behind her and hears everything and Chloe panics when she notices her? Beca’s reaction is up to you.

Chloe’s feelings for Beca is her worst-kept secret—to everyone except Beca, apparently.

Chloe sees the looks she gets when she brushes her hand over Beca’s arm or hugs her from behind or gets caught staring a little  _too_ long at her.

If only Chloe had a dollar for every time she was asked, “So what’s the deal with you and Beca?”

It hurts a little when she answers, “Nothing. We’re just friends.”

Even though everyone already  _knows,_ keeping her feelings inside makes her feel like she’s going to explode. Chloe’s always been someone who needs to  _talk_ about things.

Things have been piling up too high, and they just all come spilling out.

“I like Beca.”

Chloe doesn’t know why she picked Emily. Maybe because she’s the newest and therefore the least likely to just roll her eyes and say, “I know.” Or it could be because she just happens to be the only one home.

Emily looks somewhat confused and just says, “Oh.”

“Like, I  _like_ like her,” Chloe confesses, like she’s a twelve-year-old at a sleepover sharing her crush with her friends. “I have for three years now.”

“You know,” Emily says, putting down her book, “I did at first think you two were dating.”

Chloe chuckles, albeit a little bitterly. “Yeah, if only. I—”

She stops at the look on Emily’s face: She looks suddenly frightened, staring at something over Chloe’s shoulder. Turning, Chloe looks behind her to see…

Beca.

She’s just standing there in the threshold of the door, the expression on her face unreadable.

“I—” Her vice cracks, and Chloe has to clear her throat. “Beca,” she says shakily.

“I’m just gonna…” Emily quickly stands and leaves the room, despite the fact that it  _is_ her room.

Chloe’s heart is racing, and she can feel her palms beginning to sweat. She feels like she can’t breathe; if Beca freaks out and never wants to speak to her again, she has no idea what she’ll do.

“Three years?” Beca asks finally. Quietly. Like she’s wary of the answer.

Chloe just nods, looking away. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. She’s not sure why she says it, but she feels like she should.

“Chloe,” Beca says. Chloe looks back at her, and she thinks she sees a hint of a smile on her lips. “The only thing you should be apologizing for is for not telling me sooner.”

Chloe blinks, just sitting there dumbly for a moment. “What?”

Now Beca glances away, but it’s her classic I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-my-feelings look. “I like you, too,” she mumbles. Then she meets Chloe’s eyes again and smiles—for real this time. “Is that… okay?”

Chloe almost laughs at the question. This is an extraordinarily odd day. 

“Yeah,” she says, ‘it’s okay.”

She thinks absently fifteen minutes later with her hands in Beca’s hair and her tongue in her mouth that perhaps they should tell Emily that she can come back into her room.


	228. Chapter 228

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Established Bechloe. Jesse hears suspicious sounds coming form behind Beca’s closed door, but thinks, “I’ve seen this movie a thousand times, they’re just assembling a bookshelf or something.” And he opens the door and it’s exactly what it sounded like.

Amy likes to joke that Jesse is the honorary eleventh Bella. 

He’s over to the house so often (when he and Beca were dating, obviously, but they remained good friends after their breakup) that the Bellas collectively decided to give him a key. In case of emergencies. Or when Amy is too lazy to get up and get the door. Or when Beca forgets one of her books and needs Jesse to run it over to her.

So when Jesse realizes that he left his  _Jaws_ special edition anniversary DVD in Beca’s room, he doesn’t think anything of it when he lets himself into the house to go and get it.

He’s about to open the door to Beca’s room when he hears a soft  _thud_.

That’s odd. He didn’t think anyone was home.

He hears it again:  _Thud_.

He strains his ears, trying to figure out what the noise is. He’s seen too many horror films to just walk into the room, completely unassuming.

He’s not stupid.

Then, “ _Chlo_.” That’s definitely Beca. 

“ _Right there!_ ”

And that sounds a lot like Chloe.

Jesse glances at his watch. What the hell could they be doing in there at 10:47 in the morning?

“ _Almost!_ ”

Could they be…?

 _Nah,_ Jesse thinks.  _Get your mind out of the gutter. They’re probably just assembling furniture or something._ He remembers Beca complaining that her bookshelf randomly fell apart the other day.

“ _Come on!_ ”

IKEA furniture  _is_ difficult to put together.

So he twists the knob and opens the door.

 _Whoa, okay, DEFINITELY_   _not assembling furniture_.

Beca is flat on her back on the floor with Chloe poised over her, hand disappearing between Beca’s thighs. Both are very much sans clothing.

Jesse stands there dumbly, his hand on the doorknob. 

He probably could sneak back out if he—

Beca shrieks. “Jesse, what the hell are you doing here?” It’s amazing how quickly her face goes red as she tries to cover herself.

Jesse is familiar with the sight of Beca’s naked body, obviously, but he doesn’t think that she’ll particularly care for that argument.

“I’m sorry,” Jesse starts to apologize as the girls scramble to find clothing and/or a blanket. “I was just looking for—”

“Shut up!” Beca yells. “Get out!”

“Right, sorry!”

Before he shuts the door, Jesse notices a partially assmbeled bookshelf a couple feet away from where Beca and Chloe were… Doing that.

So, for the record, he was half right.


	229. Chapter 229

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you please do another fic involving Emily? Maybe as a baby?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this one is my all-time favorite

“That’s a baby.”

“Yep.”

“That’s a  _baby_.”

“Yep.”

“You pushed an entire  _child_ out of your—”

“Beca, is there a point?”

“Sorry.” Beca looks away from the nursery (Chloe had smacked her when she called it a “baby stockade”) and down at Chloe. She’s seated in a wheelchair and looks pretty worn out—she’s just given birth, after all—but she still looks beautiful. “It’s just weird.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Emliy is six hours old and you’re already calling her weird.”

Beca opens her mouth to set Chloe straight ( _she_  is the sassy one in the relationship, thank you), but there are people around and they’d probably judge her for yelling at her incapacitated wife. “I’m not,” she finally says.

Chloe winks at her. “I know.”

They stare through the window for awhile longer (it really is like a zoo) in silence.

“That’s a human.”

“ _Beca_ ,” Chloe groans.

“Sorry, sorry.” Beca stares at the baby swaddled in the pink blanket. “I just can’t believe we’re parents.”

“I know,” Chloe says again quietly.

“I had a goldfish when I was a kid,” Beca says. “I killed it.”

“I’m sure you didn’t  _kill_ it—”

“No, Chloe.” Beca looks at her in the eyes with a grim, serious expression. “I killed it.”

“Oh.”

“What if I’m a bad parent?” Beca whispers. She’s suddenly seized with fear; she brought this child into this world (well, technically she didn’t, but she  _paid_ for it, so it’s almost the same thing), but what if she can’t take care of it?

“You won’t be,” Chloe assures her. 

Beca doesn’t answer. She feels a tug on her hand and looks down.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” Chloe says, looking up at her earnestly. “I know it. You already love her; I can tell.”

Beca nods resolutely. Chloe wouldn’t lie to her. Well, Chloe did once tell her that Oreos were recalled for undisclosed health code violations. While Beca was eating an Oreo.

That was rude.

But she wouldn’t lie about this.

Beca squeezes her hand back. “Okay.”

They go back to just looking at their daughter.

“Wow, I had a  _baby_ inside me.”

This time Beca does slap Chloe on the arm.

She glares back at the horrified-looking nurses.


	230. Chapter 230

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do an AU one where Beca is at a bar and is getting hit on by some weird guy and goes to Chloe (a complete stranger) and asks her to pretend to be her girlfriend for a few hours? It goes pretty well and by the end of the night they swap numbers.

“Hey, baby.”

Beca groans internally and rolls her eyes. “No thanks.”

She knows what he looks like before she even turns around. They all look the same: Maybe their hair and eye colors change, but they all have that same arrogant, condescending smirk. The one that says  _I’m about to get laid._

It kind of makes Beca want to throw up.

“Come on,” the guy says, rounding Beca’s stool. This one has brown hair and a scruffy beard. He looks like the kind of person who wouldn’t stop to pick up his coffee cup if he’d missed when he’d tossed it into the trash can. “You haven’t even talked to me yet.”

“Don’t have to.” Beca takes a sit of her drink and wills him to take the hint.

He doesn’t, of course. “But—”

Beca searches desperately around the bar for a way out. “I’m actually here with my girlfriend.” She points to a redheaded girl a couple of seats down. The girl looks at her in surprise—she’s been watching the interaction—but Beca looks her with wide eyes that she hopes scream  _help me_.

The girl seems to get it, because she nods and comes over to stand beside Beca’s stool, sliding a hand around her waist.

 _Whoa, okay_ , Beca thinks. That’s a little forward. She isn’t complaining, though; the girl is quite obviously  _very_ beautiful, and her skin is soft where she brushes her hand against Beca’s arm.

“That’s right,” the girl says assertively. “So you can kindly back the fuck off.”

The guy, to his credit, complies.

“ _Thank_ you,” Beca breathes out once he’s walked away. “I really appreciate that.”

“No problem,  _babe_ ,” the girl teases. “I’m Chloe.”

“Beca,” Beca introduces herself.

Chloe hops up onto the stool next to Beca and leans her elbow on the countertop, propping her head on her hand. “So tell me about yourself, Beca.”

Beca blinks. “What?”

“We’re dating, and I don’t know anything about you,” Chloe says seriously.

“Uh, we’re not—like—I didn’t mean—” Beca stammers. Did she happen to pick someone completely unhinged?

After a moment of watching Beca trip over her own tongue, Chloe breaks into a grin and laughs. For some reason, it sends tingles down Beca’s spine. “I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

“But I do want to get to know you,” Chloe says, more quietly this time. “If that’s okay?”

Beca is surprised to find herself saying yes.

She’s even more surprised to find out how much she has in common with Chloe.

But the biggest surprise was heading to a bar to get drunk by herself on a Tuesday afternoon (don’t judge) and leaving only minimally intoxicated and with a new girl’s phone number.


	231. Chapter 231

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write a fanfic about Chloe identifying Beca because of a certain smell, such as Beca's perfume or soap, and never realizing it until one day Beca isn't there are Chloe smells the same fragrance and automatically thinks of Beca?

Chloe remembers exactly what Beca smelled like.

It’s a combination of things: Suave “rainforest fresh” shampoo, her floral perfume, and the off-brand laundry detergent they used because it was cheaper than Tide. There was also something that Chloe can’t exactly put her finger on—some sort of warmth, familiarity.

Chloe never really  used to pay too much attention to the particular scents.

Or, she didn’t. Until Beca was gone and she realized just how addicted to it she was.

It’s weird when someone you love dies.

On the one hand, you just want the pain to  _stop_. You want to forget the person ever existed and stop reliving the same ten minutes— _I’m sorry, ma’am, there’s been an accident_ —over and over and over and over and over again.

But Chloe never in a million years would ever want to forget Beca, forget what they shared. Beca was her light—even though she was a five-foot-two storm cloud, she was Chloe’s light.

It’s been dark ever since she passed.

It’s been almost a year. Chloe’s doing okay. She still sometimes cries her eyes out in the shower or screams into her pillow until her throat is raw and cry. But she’s gone back to work and she’s finally learned how to lean on her friends instead of seeing their happiness as a reminder of what she’s lost.

She’s also slowly been going through Beca’s things—her clothes, her equipment, the junk drawer in the kitchen that Beca would never let Chloe clean out. She actually has made a few bags’ worth of donations, but she’s still working on actually throwing anything away.

It has to be done in bits; Chloe can’t handle doing it all at once.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do when she actually  _finishes_. The finality of it sounds terrifying.

But today, she’s sorting an armful of clothing from the back of the closet. (Beca had, it seems, a never-ending supply of plaid shirts.)

It’s going alright until Chloe picks up one shirt and is hit with a scent that she hasn’t smelled in a long, long time.

It feels like a simultaneous punch to the stomach and stab to the chest.

Chloe sees Beca lazily blinking her eyes open on weekend mornings, groaning when Chloe tries to drag her out of bed before eleven. She hears Beca laugh as Chloe dances around stupidly in their living room, singing the words to a new Taylor Swift song at the top of her lungs. She feels Beca’s gentle touch as she runs her fingers absently through Chloe’s hair as they watch television.

She gasps for air,  _feeling_ Beca’s presence around her so strongly that for a moment Chloe fully expects to see her when she looks up.

But there’s no one there.

It’s strange how she still gets hit with Beca’s death so often when it should be so obvious—so permanent—that she’s gone.

For the moment, though, with the shirt pressed so hard against her nose that she can barely inhale, Chloe pretends.


	232. Chapter 232

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovechild AU prompt: Beca and Chloe bicker over baby names and finally settle on Emily. Bonus points if the middle name is Bella-related.

“Chloe, no.”

“Why not?”

Beca gapes at her wife in disbelief. “Did you really just ask me why we can’t name our child Navy?”

“It’s cute!” Chloe protests.

“It’s a color!” Beca says, throwing up her hands. “And a branch of our military!”

“Okay, fine.” Chloe crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you suggest we name her?”

Beca shrugs and makes a vague gesture with her hands. “I don’t know. Just… not Navy.”

“You’re no help,” Chloe grumbles.

“You know I can’t make decisions!” Beca complains.

It’s true—if left alone, she’ll wander around aimlessly for hours in a store, picking things up and then deciding against purchasing them only to go back and pick them up again (and put them back—again). And if she can’t even choose a kind of cereal to buy, how is she supposed to name a child? It’s too much pressure.

“Well, you don’t like any of my suggestions,” Chloe says exasperatedly.

“Because you keep suggesting we name our child after plants or colors.” Beca runs her hands over her protruding belly. It’s still kind of ridiculous to her that she’s actually pregnant—actually carrying a human vessel inside of her. She’s like a baby submarine.

“You know what?” Chloe opens her laptop and types something into the browser. “I’m gonna read off some names from one of those random name generators, and you just tell me yes or no, okay?”

Beca nods. This she can do.

“Olga.”

“No.”

“Ethel.”

“Nope.”

“Magenta.”

“Chloe!”

“I swear it’s on the thing!” Chloe defends, pointing to the screen. 

Beca lets it go.

“Betsy.”

“Nah.”

“Elvira.”

“Uh, no.”

“Emily.”

Beca pauses. “Sure.”

Chloe looks up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Beca says carefully. She repeats the name in her head; she pictures herself calling it out in a store or shouting it down the hall from the kitchen. “I like it.”

Chloe nods. “I do, too.” 

She and Beca share a long look before they both break into grins.

“Let’s do it,” Beca says.

“Just one more thing.”

“Oh God, what?” Beca groans.

“Her middle name is Bella.” It’s clear that it’s not a suggestion—it’s a statement.

“Sure, whatever,” Beca agrees.

She shouldn’t have expected anything less.


	233. Chapter 233

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Jesse and Chloe are hanging out but even though Chloe likes being around them and wants them to be happy she gets sad and when they kiss it hurts her a lot.

It’s kind of a strange friendship they’ve managed to cobble together. 

It took Chloe awhile to come to terms with Jesse and Beca’s relationship—it took awhile to look at Jesse and not feel hate, to look at them together and not feel crushing sadness.

But somehow, they ended up friends.

Actually, Chloe knows exactly how they became friends: Beca would invite Chloe to hang out with her and Jesse but then skip out on whatever movie Jesse had put on halfway through. After awhile, they just started having their own movie nights.

Chloe is surprised to find that she actually  _likes_ Jesse, especially after spending so long hating him. 

(She never hated him for anything  _about_ him, though. She hated that he had what she wanted— _who_  she wanted.)

They text sometimes, even. It almost entirely consists of “shit Beca says”: “But why  _can’t_ laundry detergent go in the dishwasher? Isn’t it, like, the same thing?” Or, “When will they make a calculator that does your math homework  _for_  you?” (And then, ten minutes later, “STACIE!”) Or, “If you kick me one more time they’re not even going to find a  _piece_ of your body.” (Said to a four-year-old.)

It’s all very weird.

Tonight, Jesse shows up with  _Catch Me If You Can_ and three kinds of popcorn.

Jesse is actually a really great movie partner: He stays quiet for the most part save for some “fun facts” every once in awhile that Chloe finds interesting instead of annoying.

About forty-five minutes in, Beca wanders into the living room and plops down on the couch in the space between them.

Beca knows the rules: If she elects to be there, she can’t complain—about  _anything_.

(Annoyed huffs and eye rolls count, too.)

It’s just a quiet evening with Leonardo DiCaprio, and Chloe is happy. 

It only bothers her a little bit when Beca rests her head on Jesse’s shoulder and sighs contentedly. 

But as the credits roll, Beca lifts her head and presses her lips to Jesse’s.

Chloe tries not to look, but she can see it out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly, it’s the only thing she  _can_ see.

It’s just a normal kiss—not a make-out session or anything, but it’s certainly clear in its intentions. 

When Beca pulls back slightly and gazes at Jesse like he’s the only person in the room, Chloe can’t take it anymore.

“Thanks,” she blurts, abruptly standing up. “For, uh, the popcorn,” she finishes awkwardly.

“You’re welcome,” Jesse says, looking mildly confused. His hand is resting on Beca’s lower back. Chloe notices how his thumb brushes back and forth over the sliver of exposed skin between Beca’s jeans and her shit.

Chloe just nods and rushes out of the room.

Tonight, it hurts.


	234. Chapter 234

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca dyes her hair blonde (as blonde as Anna's in The Last Five Years) Chloe reacts. Positively or negatively is up to you.

“Your hair is blond.”

“Yep.”

“Your hair is blond.”

“This is true.”

“You hair is  _blond_.” 

“Are you just going to keep saying that?”

“Sorry,” Chloe says, but she’s still staring like she’s four years old and has just been presented with the world’s largest lollipop. “It’s just…”

“Blond?” Beca finishes, quirking an eyebrow.

She’s not sure what prompted her to do it. Maybe it’s the novelty: She’s never dyed her hair before. She’d have gone with a more fun color—like purple or something—but she doesn’t think that would go down at work too well. And, obviously, she couldn’t do red. That’d be weird.

So blond it was.

“Can I touch it?”

“What?” Beca asks, blinking. “Of course you can touch it.”

Cautiously, Chloe reaches up a hand.

“Oh, my God, Chlo,” Beca huffs. “It’s a different color, not radioactive.” She watches in amusement as Chloe bites her lip, tentatively running her fingers through Beca’s hair.

“It’s so soft,” Chloe whispers.

“It’s the same hair as it’s always been,” Beca tells her. 

“But it’s blond,” Chloe says seriously as she continues to stroke Beca’s head.

Beca rolls her eyes. “You haven’t even said if you like it or not.”

Chloe’s hand stills. “I  _love_ it, obvi.”

“Please don’t sat that,” Beca groans. She’s just conditioned Chloe out of saying  _awes_. “You really like it?”

Chloe nods, and Beca can’t quite read her expression. She’s just staring very intensely at Beca. “I really, really like it.”

“Thanks,” Beca says, starting to feel a little unsettled.

“I really,  _really_  like it,” Chloe says again. She’s shifting restlessly—almost squirming—on the couch. “Really.”

“What are you—” Beca starts to ask, and then it clicks.  _Oh._ “OH.”

Chloe just nods again, but a little more frantically.

“Bedroom?” Beca asks, already standing. 

Chloe lets out a breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”


	235. Chapter 235

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily's gay and wants to come out to Mama Junk but she's scared af so she asks Bechloe for some advice.

Beca doesn’t really understand why anyone ever comes to her for advice. 

Does she seem like a person who particularly has her life together? On any given day she can be found in her pajamas at 3 pm on the couch, homework long forgotten in favor of channel-surfing as she stuffs dry cereal into her mouth.

That’s actually what she’s doing right now.

Although, on second thought, maybe it’s  _Chloe_ people come to for advice and Beca always just happens to be there.

But Emily  _did_  say, “Can I talk to you guys?” so that entails the both of them.

“Yeah, Em, what’s up?” Chloe asks. Beca takes this opportunity to snatch the box of Lucky Charms back out of her hands.

Emily sits down in the armchair. Then she stands back up again. Then she sits back down and proceeds to fidget with the material of her shirt.

It’s all very awkward but somehow endearing and even mildly adorable. 

( _Ugh_ , now Beca’s starting to  _think_ like Chloe. They need to spend less time together.)

“Are you going to talk to us or are we going to have to play charades?” Beca says after a full two minutes of silence. Chloe jabs her in the side with her elbow.

Rude.

“Sorry,” Emily says. She sounds nervous, and she kind of looks like she’s going to throw up. 

Beca’s about to offer to get her a bucket when Chloe says gently, “Whatever it is, you can tell us. You know that we’ll—”

“I’m gay,” Emily blurts.

Beca blinks. She wasn’t expecting  _that_. She’d thought that maybe Emily had broken the toaster again or something.

Chloe looks surprised, too, but she recovers more quickly. “Thank you for telling us,” she says. “I think it’s pretty obvious that we’re not gonna judge you, right?” she jokes, gesturing to Beca.

Emily laughs, but it’s high-pitched and strained. “That’s why I came to you guys.”

Chloe smiles. “Beca might not be as comfortable with her sexuality—”

“Whoa, hey,” Beca cuts in. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You thought you were straight until I kissed you three months ago,” Chloe says, raising an eyebrow.

“I  _was_ straight!” Beca feels her cheeks heat a little bit. Shouldn’t they be focusing on Emily?

“Oh, honey,” Chloe says, patting her hand. “You were  _never_  straight.”

Beca opens her mouth to protest, but Emily speaks again.

“I want to tell my mom and I don’t know how,” she says.

“You could bake her a cake,” Beca suggests, but Chloe just elbows her again.

“Are you worried about how she’ll react?” Chloe asks.

“Not… really,” Emily says, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “I just don’t know  _how_ to tell her. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it.”

Chloe is quiet for a moment, thinking. Then her eyes light up. “A song.”

“What?” Emily frowns.

“Write her a song,” Chloe says. “I’ll help you sing it.”

Beca thinks it’s kind of a stupid idea, but Emily nods, and for the first time since she’s come in the room she looks like she’s relaxing a bit.

“Okay,” Emily agrees.

Chloe claps her hands. “Let’s start working on it!”

“Okay,” Emily says again, “I’ll get my notebook.”

Once Emily heads upstairs, Beca smacks Chloe with one of the couch cushions.

“Hey!” Chloe shouts. “What was that for?”

“For making fun of me,” Beca grumbles. 

Chloe just grins and pecks Beca on the cheek.

So rude.


	236. Chapter 236

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write a Bechloe one based on Friends by Ed Sheeran?

Chloe might as well be dating Beca. 

Beca’s always doing these  _things_ —like grabbing Chloe’s hand as they walk down the street or falling asleep with her head on Chloe’s shoulder during long bus rides or heading straight into Chloe’s room after a long day of classes instead of her own—that make Chloe feel like they’re in a relationship.

Chloe feels like she’s dating Beca. But Beca isn’t dating  _her_ , because Beca’s dating Jesse.

Except that doesn’t stop Beca from falling asleep in Chloe’s bed half the time because she’s too lazy to get up and go to her own room. 

Beca claims that Amy snores and that it’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep in her own room, but Chloe suspects that that isn’t true—Beca is too quick to snuggle in close to Chloe’s side under the blankets, rests her head a little too comfortable on Chloe’s collarbone, sighs a little too contentedly against Chloe’s skin.

Chloe keeps telling herself that she’s just imagining things, that she wants Beca so badly that she’s projecting her own desires onto her friend. Chloe’s done the falling-for-her-straight-best-friend things for three years now; she’s used to it. So she pushes her suspicions out of her mind.

It’s just easier.

And then one night Beca comes stumbling into her room after one of the Trebles’ parties, completely hammered. Chloe’s drunk, too, but not nearly as drunk as Beca—she’s sober enough to know that it’s a bad idea when Beca plops herself down in bed beside Chloe. Especially because her face is just inches from Chloe’s.

“Chlo,” Beca whispers, even though she and Chloe are the only people in the room.

“What, Bec?” Chloe says. The last time they were this close was in the tent at the retreat; Chloe tries to force herself not to look at Beca’s lips.

“What would you do,” Beca slurs, and Chloe can feel her breath hot against her lips, “if I kissed you right now?”

Chloe freezes, her stomach dropping at the question. She doesn’t answer; she  _can’t_ answer.

 _She doesn’t mean it_ , Chloe says to herself.  _She’s drunk. She won’t even remember this in the morning._

Beca seems to take her silence as an answer, because before Chloe realizes what’s happening, Beca closes the gap and presses their lips together.

It’s short and chaste and Beca tastes like the cheap wine that is always in supply at the Treble parties, but it leaves Chloe gasping for air and tingling all over. 

Beca stares at her for a few long moments when they part before smiling softly. Chloe thinks that she looks beautiful in this moment, even though her eyeliner is smudged and it looks like she somehow got a little bit of cheese dip in her hair.

Chloe falls asleep staring up at the ceiling, crying silent tears underneath the weight of Beca’s head on her shoulder and three years of suppressed feelings.

* * *

Chloe doesn’t see Beca again until late the next day. She comes into Chloe’s room, still dressed from her internship.

But this time Beca just hovers in the doorway, looking unsure. 

Chloe’s been wondering all day if Beca remembers anything from last night, and this is a pretty clear indication that  _yes_ , she does.

“Um, hey,” Beca says after a moment.

“Hi,” Chloe says quietly. She doesn’t know what else to say.

“I, uh, I’m sorry about last night,” Beca says, rubbing the back of her head in the way she always does when she’s nervous. “It was a mistake.”

Chloe’s heart stops beating. “A mistake?” she repeats. 

“Yeah, I mean…” Beca trails off, waving her hand vaguely. “I mean, you’re my best friend, and I’m dating Jesse, and I shouldn’t have done it.”

Chloe just stares at her. There are too many emotions swirling inside of her for her to make sense of them. But one thought rises to the surface and sinks heavily in her stomach: Beca doesn’t want her back.

“Is that—are we… okay?” Beca asks, her voice small. 

“I think,” Chloe says after a moment, “that you should start sleeping in your own bed.”

Beca’s face falls. Maybe it should make Chloe feel better that Beca looks so hurt by the idea, but it just makes her feel even  _more_  confused.

She doesn’t know what to do, but she needs the space to figure it out.

Beca nods resolutely and leaves the room.

Even though Chloe told her to go, it still hurts.


	237. Chapter 237

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenaged aca-child Emily misses curfew without letting her parents know and when she gets back, they're shocked to see she is coming back from Pride (something they never really thought to go to before and didn't even think she would know about it).

Emily’s never been one to disobey her parents.

Actually, she’s never been one to disobey  _anyone_.

So when she manages to slink back into the house at 11 pm undetected, she’s feeling pretty proud of herself.

Until the light in the living room snaps on, revealing Beca and Chloe sitting on the couch, nearly giving Emily a heart attack.

It was probably Beca’s idea; she’ll deny it, but she’s big into dramatic effects. Seated on the couch, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, illuminated only by the lamp beside her, she looks like a cop in a movie ready to interrogate a suspect.

So much for her first successful rebellion.

“Emily, where have you been?” Beca asks, gesturing for Emily to sit in the armchair across from the couch. “And why are you dressed so"—she gestures with her hand to Emily’s body—“rainbow?”

Emily looks down. She’d forgotten that she’s decked out in every color imaginable, complete with rainbow flags painted on her cheeks. “I was at Pride,” she says, deciding to just be honest. Plus, she’s a terrible liar.

“Pride?” Beca repeats.

“Yeah,” Emily says. “You know, the gay thing.”

“I know what Pride is,” Beca says, looking mildly annoyed.

“Is that… okay?” Emily asks after a beat of silence. 

Her parents obviously aren’t homophobic—they’re both very quite homo-enthusiastic, if some of the noises Emily has heard coming from their bedroom are anything to go by. So Emily doesn’t know why they’re acting so cagey.

“Of course it’s okay, honey,” Chloe says quickly.

“It’s okay if you’re home by curfew,” Beca cuts in, but Chloe ignores her.

“I just didn’t think that you’d be interested in that,” Chloe elaborates. 

“Why not?” Emily asks. “It was a lot of fun! I got all this free stuff.” She points to the small bag she’d dropped when Beca had scared her earlier. “How come you guys never go?”

Chloe looks thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know,” she says, shrugging. “We just never did.”

“Too many people,” Beca answers, her lip curling slightly, and Emily catches Chloe rolling her eyes. 

“And I knew that we were…  _different_ than your friends’ parents,” Chloe allows slowly, “and I guess I just wanted you to feel like you had normal parents. So I didn’t take you to the giant party about how we aren’t.”

“What?” Emily says. That’s probably the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard Chloe say, but she’s touched by the ways that her parents have tried to protect her. “You’re, like, the most normal parents ever.”

“Oh, well now she’s just insulting us,” Beca grumbles, but Emily is pretty sure that she’s joking.

“I’m glad you think so, sweetie.” Chloe smiles at her, and Emily notes the way her moms haven’t stopped holding hands since she walked in the room.

“Maybe we can all go next year?” Emily says hopefully. 

“Sure,” Chloe says at the same time that Beca says, “No.” Chloe elbows her wife in the side. 

Emily yawns. “I’m gonna go to bed. Love you guys.” She stands up and stops to peck kisses on her parents’ cheeks. “Good night.”

“Night, honey,” Chloe calls.

“And don’t think that we forgot that you broke curfew,” Beca adds.

“Of course not,” Emily says sarcastically.

She is her mother’s daughter, after all.


	238. Chapter 238

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Beca tries or is about to attempt suicide, but Chloe comes in just in time to stop her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suicide, depression

It’s a beautiful night.

It’s warm but not too hot, and the breeze that lifts Beca’s hair slightly off of the back of her neck is refreshing. The sky is free of clouds, and when she looks up, Beca can see the stars twinkling back down at her.

It makes her want to scream.

How can the world keep turning, seemingly unaffected?

She takes it as another sign that nobody will miss her.

Beca sits on the edge of the overpass, watching the cars whizzing back and forth below her. At any moment, with just a little shove, she could plummet onto the road in front of an oncoming vehicle and everything would be over.

It comforts her, having control over something, when the rest of her life seems to be sinking so rapidly around her.

She doesn’t know why she doesn’t just  _do_ it, just end it all right now. It would be so easy to kiss all of her pain goodbye and finally be at peace.

Beca’s heard that if you’re having second thoughts, then you shouldn’t do it. But she doesn’t know what  _else_ to do. With every step, with every breath, with every time she blinks she feels like she’s sinking deeper and deeper.

Every other heartbeat echoes with the thought,  _I wish I were dead_. 

She’s tired of pretending to be fine, of acting like she doesn’t pray every night before bed that she won’t wake up.

She’s tired of fighting with the voices in the back of her mind that tell her that she isn’t good enough, that she’ll  _never_ be good enough, that her life will never be the way she wants it. That nobody cares, that everyone would be better off without her.

That she’d be doing everyone a favor by removing herself from the world.

It’s a heavy load to carry, day in and day out, and she’s exhausted.

Beca stares down at the road until her vision goes blurry, slowing and deepening her breaths. She smells the crispness of the air, feels the rough concrete of the ledge beneath her feet, hears the steady hum of vehicles speeding past underneath her.

And she says goodbye to them all.

She closes her eyes.

“Beca!”

Beca startles, teetering precariously on the ledge. She hears the slap of shoes against pavement and then feels a hand fisting in her shirt, yanking her back down to the ground.

When her feet make contact, she just crumbles, pressing her hands and cheek against the ground. The gravel digs into her skin, but she needs to feel the solidity. 

She looks up, and she sees Chloe.

“Beca, are you okay?” Chloe quickly kneels beside her, hands hovering over Beca’s body as if to make sure that all of the pieces are there.

She won’t be able to see what’s missing inside of Beca.

“I’m fine,” Beca says, so weakly and so faintly that she’s not even sure she’s said it.

“No, you’re not fine!” Chloe says, sounding a little hysterical. “I find a note that just says ‘Goodbye. I love you,’ and I find you about to jump off of a fucking overpass!”

Beca shrugs. She drags her hand roughly against the ground, trying and failing to feel something—anything. Her body might be safely on the ground, but she feels like her soul jumped off of the overpass and was crushed under the wheel of a truck.

“Beca,” Chloe says when she doesn’t answer. When Beca doesn’t even look up, Chloe shifts so she’s lying down next to Beca, facing her. Beca can see that her eyes are red and swollen and her mascara is streaked down her cheeks. “Bec, talk to me,” she whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Beca’s face. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca chokes out. She realizes that she’s crying; she’s surprised that she can feel the wetness sliding down her cheeks. 

The numbness gradually seeps out of her body, and Beca can now feel the way her heart is racing and her hands are shaking. She’d been so close to putting her pain to rest.

But once again, she’s failed.

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Chloe says. “Do you think you can sit up with me?” She gently pushes at Beca’s shoulders, and Beca can feel that her hands are trembling, too. “Good, good,” Chloe breathes when Beca moves into a sitting position, leaning heavily against Chloe.

They sit like that for a few minutes, Chloe’s arms wrapped tightly around Beca like she’s terrified to let go. 

“I love you, Bec,” Chloe whispers. “You know that, right?”

Beca nods. Strangely enough, she  _does_ believe her. Beca knows that Chloe loves her. But she also feels like Chloe would be better off without her.

“We’re gonna get you through this, Bec,” Chloe says. “We’re gonna help you, okay? You’re gonna be alright.”

Beca just closes her eyes.

“My car is right over there,” Chloe says. “Do you think you can walk over to it? I’ll…” She hesitates. “I’ll take you to the hospital,” she says quietly. “And we’ll get you some help, okay? Please?” She says the last word desperately.

Beca opens her eyes again. She glances back over the overpass, staring at the spot she had nearly jumped from. She looks back up at the sky, at the stars still glittering. Everything is exactly as it was fifteen minutes ago.

She looks at Chloe, whose eyes are wide and searching and petrified. She’s holding Beca close but gently, like she’s afraid Beca will shatter.

She might.

“Please?” Chloe repeats.

Everything is exactly as it was fifteen minutes ago, but now she has Chloe’s hand on her lower back, supporting her. Giving her strength.

Beca nods and carefully stands up.

“Okay.”


	239. Chapter 239

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Your cat keeps getting into my house and I don’t even know how would you care to explain’ AU

Beca likes Sundays: She doesn’t have to get up early to go into work, so she can sleep in and let the sunlight streaming in through the window wake her instead of her alarm.

Beca takes her time slowly blinking her eyes open, stretching her arms over her head. She rolls over, preparing to get up, but there’s something blocking her path.

She screams.

The cat just stares at her, its green eyes wide. It sits there, orange tail wrapped around its white paws, just watching Beca. Like it has a perfect right to be there.

“Holy shit,” Beca breathes out once the initial panic subsides. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

The cat just blinks.

Right. Cats don’t talk.

Cautiously, Beca sits up. She’s never been very good with animals, let alone random ones that turn up in her bed.

She’s very confused.

Very carefully, Beca holds out her hand. With a tiny  _mrrp_ , the cat enthusiastically rubs its head against it. 

Okay, so at least it’s a friendly cat.

But it still begs the question: How the  _fuck_ did it get in here?

Also: How is she supposed to get rid of it?

The cat follows Beca into the kitchen, sitting at her feet and looking up at her expectantly.

“Do you, uh, want something to eat?” Beca asks, then immediately shakes her head. She must be losing it.

 _Get a grip_ , she says to herself.

In response, the cat gets up and walks to the door of Beca’s apartment, scratching a paw down the wood.

So Beca opens the door, and the cat disappears out into the hallway.

That was weird.

* * *

It happens again three days later—except this time, the cat wakes her up at thee o’clock in the morning by walking back and forth across her stomach.

“Go back out the way you came,” Beca grumbles, turning over and burying her head further into her pillow.

The cat is gone by the time she wakes up.

* * *

When she comes out of the shower to find the cat sitting on her bathroom rug a week later, Beca decides something must be done.

She yanks on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, tucks the cat under her arm (it makes a tiny, displeased noise in protest), heads out into the hallway, and shouts, “DID ANYBODY LOSE THEIR CAT?”

A moment of silence passes. Beca starts to feel kind of stupid, standing in the middle of the hallway with hair dripping wet and yelling about cats.

Then a door opens.

“Did you say cat?” a girl with red hair asks, eyes zeroing in on the feline in Beca’s arms. “Waffles!” 

“I’m assuming it’s yours?” Beca asks as the girl carefully extracts the cat and holds it close.

“Yeah, this is Waffles,” the girl says, pressing a kiss to the cat’s little orange forehead. “Where did you find him?”

“He’s been breaking into my apartment,” Beca says, gesturing to her door. “I have no idea how.”

The girl frowns. “That’s weird. I keep my door shut and I assume you do, too.”

 _Well, duh_ , Beca thinks. “Yep.”

“How did you get in there?” the girl asks Waffles, who simply closes his eyes and purrs as the girl scratches the back of his neck.

Well, at least Beca isn’t the only one talking to the cat.

The girl seems to think for a moment. “I have an idea.” She turns and heads back to her open apartment door. “Come here.”

Beca hesitates; she doesn’t know this girl.

“It’s fine,” the girl says, as if reading Beca’s thoughts. “I just want to show you something.”

“Okay,” Beca agrees and follows her inside.

The first thing she notices is that the apartment smells like vanilla.

“I’m Chloe, by the way,” the girl says, setting Waffles back down on the ground. 

“Beca.” Beca glances around, noting the abundance of framed photographs on the walls. 

Chloe heads into her kitchen, off of which there is a sliding door leading onto a tiny balcony. “Is that your apartment?” she asks, pointing to Beca’s balcony a couple of feet away. 

Beca nods. “Yeah.”

“Aha!” Chloe says. She points to the sliding screen door. “Waffles knows how to open the door by putting his claws in it and pulling. I usually keep the glass door closed, but sometimes I forget.”

Realization dawns on Beca. “So he jumped onto my balcony and opened the door.”

“I think so,” Chloe agrees. She turns to Waffles, who is watching them with disinterest. “Is that what you’ve been doing?”

Waffles just looks up at something on the ceiling. 

“I’m so sorry,” Chloe says to Beca. “I’ll be sure to close the glass door from now on.”

“It’s okay,” Beca assures her. “I actually… I actually don’t really mind it.”

As soon as she says it, she knows it sounds weird. Chloe’s definitely going to be closing the door now.

But instead Chloe just laughs. “If you say so,” she says, winking. For some reason, it sends shivers down Beca’s spine.

They look at each other for a few seconds, not saying anything. Beca finds Chloe’s eyes very distracting: They’re a brilliant cerulean, unlike anything Beca has seen.

“Well, if I ever need a cat-sitter, you want him?” Chloe asks. “I’m going out of town for a family thing in a few weeks.”

“Sure,” Beca answers automatically.  _What is happening to me?_ she wonders. She’s usually very anti-animals. 

She can’t tell if she’s agreeing because she likes Waffles or because she likes… Chloe.

“Great!” Chloe says, grinning. “Do you want to get coffee later?”

Beca’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Is that a requirement for all of your potential cat-sitters?”

Chloe laughs and squeezes Beca’s arm briefly. It makes her skin tingle. “No. Just the ones I like.”

“Oh,” Beca says, hating the way her voice comes out high and squeaky. She coughs to clear her throat. “I should probably get dressed, then.” She’s suddenly self-conscious about her clothing when Chloe is standing in front of her looking perfectly put-together.

“Okay,” Chloe says, heading back inside the apartment. “Come on over at like noon?”

“Okay,” Beca agrees before she heads back out the door.

Today is a weird day.


	240. Chapter 240

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacie is throwing a wedding for her pets or something—her snakes maybe—because she’s a weirdo, and she invites Beca and Chloe (who actually don’t know each other) and Beca ends up getting drunk and making an emotional speech about the snakes, until Chloe just has to drag her away.

Stacie has had Avogadro and Newton for three months now. 

That’s totally enough time for them to reproduce, right?

But she checks the tank every morning, and every morning, no eggs are to be found.

And yes, she’s  _sure_ that Avogadro is female and Newton is male.

It hits her one day while she’s taking a shower: What if the reason that they’re not  _doing it_ is because they’re not married?

(It’s a perfectly logical conclusion, right?)

Stacie sets to work making wedding invitations—well, she makes two. She doesn’t exactly have time to make stacks of hand-written cards on top of the rest of the planning for the wedding that’s happening in two days.

She sends one to Beca, from her human biology class, and one to Chloe, her organic chemistry lab partner. 

She gets two very different responses:

**Chloe:** _Of course I’ll be there!!!! That sounds so cute!!_   
**Chloe:** _What should I wear? Does the no-white thing apply here?_

and

**Beca:** _Stacie, what the fuck?_   
**Beca:** _No, seriously, what is wrong with you?_   
**Beca:** _Wait, will there be alcohol?_

Stacie goes out and buys a small white sheet cake—sans any script, because she doesn’t want to explain to the bakery department why she’s buying a wedding cake for her snakes.

She makes a little archway to reach over the tank out of pipe cleaners and buys a small bouquet of white roses to set next to it.

Everything is all set.

* * *

“Oh,” Beca says when she arrives, “you were actually serious about this.”

“Of course I was,” Stacie says, frowning. “While I fully respect that Newton and Avogadro have decided to save themselves for marriage, I really need to be able to observe the way they incubate the eggs for my animal behavior class.”

Beca stares at her for a long moment before she shakes her head. “If you say so.” She peers around Stacie into the little kitchen. “You said there would be booze.” 

Rolling her eyes, Stacie points Beca in the direction of her liquor cabinet (which, for the sake of space, is also her cereal cabinet). 

“Hey!”

Stacie turns around to see Chloe, dressed in a pale blue sundress. (Even though Stacie had told her that Avogadro wasn’t going to be wearing  _anything_ and therefore wouldn’t mind if Chloe wore white, she had insisted.)

“Hi!” Stacie greets, pulling Chloe in for a quick hug. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.” Chloe peers around Stacie into the living room, where the tank is sitting on the coffee table. “Is this the happy couple?”

Stacie nods. “This is Avogadro,” she says, pointing into the tank, “and this is Newton.”

“Stace!” Beca yells from the kitchen. “Where’s the Jack?”

“And  _that_ is my friend Beca,” Stacie says, crossing the few feet into the kitchen. She opens a cabinet and pulls out a bottle. “Here.”

Beca pours herself a generous glass and knocks it back, grimacing and coughing a little.

“Jesus Christ, Beca,” Stacie says, pulling the bottle out of her hands. “Are you  _trying_ to get hammered?”

“I’m at a wedding for a pair of amphibians,” Beca says, yanking it back. “Drunk is the only way I can do this.”

“They’re  _reptiles_ ,” Stacie corrects irritatedly. 

Beca’s about to take another swig when she notices Chloe standing in the threshold. “Wait, you got someone else to come to this thing?”

“Beca, this is my chem lab partner, Chloe,” Stacie introduces, rolling her eyes. “She’s very pleased to be in attendance.”

“Nice to meet you,” Chloe chirps. 

Beca just stares for a moment before the words seem to register in her head. “Uh, hi.”

Stacie looks at Beca strangely, but just says, “Shall we start?”

She doesn’t actually  _totally_  know how this works, but she’s watched enough wedding shows on TLC to get the gist.

“We are gathered here today to honor the holy matrimony of Avogadro and Newton,” Stacie says, pointedly ignoring the way Beca is sucking down her Jack and Coke like she’s just here to get drunk.

Which, on second thought, she probably is.

“We are gathered here in the presence of God and this company to witness and bless the exchanging of vows that will bind them together in the holy relationship of marriage. When this ceremony has ended, they will leave as husband and wife having been joined together by the God of heaven,” Stacie recites, reading off of the note cards she’d thrown together the night before. 

Judging by the way Beca is starting to sway a little on her feet, Stacie should keep this short before she passes out altogether. 

“Uh…” She shuffles her cards. “If any of you can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now or else forever hold your peace.” 

Beca starts to open her mouth, but Stacie cuts her off.

“Unless you’re Beca,” she adds.

Beca makes a  _hmph_  noise and crosses her arms. 

“Newton, repeat after me: I, Newton, take Avogadro to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death.”

Stacie pauses until she’s sure Newton has had enough time to communicate her vow in whatever snake way he does to Avogadro. 

“Now Avogadro: I, Avogadro, take Newton to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death.”

Another pause.

“I didn’t get rings for… obvious reasons,” Stacie says, mostly to Chloe. Beca’s just kind of staring off into space.

Chloe nods, smiling.

“I now pronounce you snake and wife!” Stacie says, clapping her hands. 

“Yay!” Chloe shouts, applauding as well.

“I thought that now we could eat cake and—”

“Wait,” Beca interrupts, moving over to stand behind the tank. She peers down into it for a moment. “I have s’thing I wanna say.” Her words are slightly slurred, and Stacie notices that the (tall) glass in her hand is empty. “D’you mind?”

“Uh, no,” Stacie says, raising an eyebrow. “Go right ahead.”

“I haven’t known Avo… Avogra… Avro… your snakes for very long,” Beca says seriously. “But I think it’s jus’ so beautiful how much they love each other, y’know? And how honora—honorable it is that they decided to wait until marriage. Amirite?” She looks up. “Amirite?” she repeats.

“Oh, yeah,” Chloe says, hiding a smile behind her hand. 

“And I can see that they jus’ love each other so much, even though they’re jus’ snakes and it’s not like they can even read the Bible, y’know? Or, like, go out on dates or hold hands or anything,” Beca continues, but her voice starts to crack on the last words and she sniffles.

_Is she… crying?_

“A-and I hope that someday I can find something like what they have, y’know?” Beca says, sloppily wiping away a tear that slips down her cheek.

Stacie presses her fingertips to her temples.  _Is this seriously happening right now?_

“And—”

“Ooookay,” Chloe says, moving past Stacie to grab Beca’s hand. She puts her other hand on Beca’s shoulder comfortingly. “That’s very nice of you to say. Why don’t we go have some cake?”

“Like you,” Beca says, turning her attention to Chloe.

“What about me?” Chloe asks, bemused.

“I bet you have, like, guys or snakes or whatever fallin’ all over you,” Beca says sadly. “Are you married?”

Chloe raises her eyebrows and Stacie can see her fighting the urge to laugh. “I’m twenty-one, Beca. I’m not married. To a human or otherwise.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “But you’re so pretty. Like a… Like, you’re the most beautiful broom in a closet of brooms.”

“Uh, thanks,” Chloe says, awkwardly guiding Beca away from the tank to sit down on the couch. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

Beca nods. “I think I might take a nap.”

“Jesus Christ,” Stacie hisses to Chloe once they’re in the kitchen. “I’m  _so_  sorry about that.”

Chloe looks at her strangely for a moment before she bursts out laughing. “It’s fine,” she gasps out once she catches her breath. “This is officially the weirdest wedding I’ve ever been to.”

“Beca’s not usually like that,” Stacie swears. “She must like you or something.”

Chloe smiles at that and peers into the living room, where Beca has draped herself across the couch. 

“I like her, too.”


	241. Chapter 241

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a Bechloe lovechild AU fic where Emily is diagnosed as a younger child with OCD after some kind of episode and the aftermath?

When you raise a child, you go through a lot of shit with them.

Beca’s seen Emily sick. She’s seen her injured and sad and angry and so excited she knocked over (and broke) a lamp.

But this? This is… something else.

It’s scary.

Beca’s noticed a shift in Emily in the last few months—nothing major, but she seems more rigid. More sensitive. Everything has to be a certain way or else she starts to unwind.

Beca and Chloe didn’t think anything of it: Okay, they won’t let the bananas touch the apples in the fruit dish. No problem.

She’ll grow out of it.

But then Emily doesn’t, and things get worse.

There are days when they can’t even get her off to school because she’s sobbing into her hands over the fact that she didn’t wake up at exactly 7:15.

And then one day Emily loses one of the pens out of the set of five that Chloe bought her for Christmas—one for each class—and she comes completely unglued.

Beca rushes over to where Emily has collapsed on the floor of the kitchen and wraps her arms around her. She can feel the tension radiating out of her daughter’s little body, every muscle coiled tightly.

“Shh,” Chloe says soothingly, rubbing Emily’s back. “Just breathe,” she instructs as their daughter starts hyperventilating.

Beca meets Chloe’s eyes over Emily’s head, and they silently agree.

Something has to be done.

* * *

“I’m sorry, obsessive-com-what?”

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder,” the psychiatrist repeats, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s an anxiety disorder characterized by frequent upsetting thoughts, called obsessions. To try to control them, a person will feel an overwhelming urge to repeat certain rituals or behaviors called compulsions.”

Beca glances over to her daughter, who is blithely reading a book in the big armchair in the office.

“But there’s a way to help her, right?” Beca asks. She grips Chloe’s hand tightly. She just wants her child to feel better.

“Of course, yes,” the psychiatrist says. “We can help her control the anxiety with medication and psychotherapy.” At Beca’s puzzled expression, he elaborates, “Talking to a counselor.”

“Oh.” 

Chloe looks at her then, her eyes calm and reassuring. “We’ll get through this, Bec,” she says quietly. “Em’s going to be fine.”

Coincidentally, Emily peers up from her book briefly and smiles at her parents before going back to reading.

Beca nods. “Okay.”


	242. Chapter 242

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one were Emily (college Emily) gets sick and Beca and Chloe take care of her?

Emily has a cold.

Beca feels bad for her; she really does. She doesn’t mind buying Emily tissues and stuff, but it’s not like she’s going to  _die_ from congestion and a low-grade fever.

Chloe, on the other hand, apparently disagrees.

(But then again, every time someone so much as  _sneezes_  Chloe runs over to take their temperature.)

The grocery list Chloe gave Beca is kind of ridiculous—does Emily  _really_ need three types of ChapStick?—but she goes along with it, because it’s easier to buy four flavors of cough drops than to argue.

Except—

“Beca.”

Beca looks up from the electric kettle she’d been trying to turn on. “What?”

“I asked you to buy chicken noodle soup,” Chloe says. She has a can clutched in her hand, and she looks annoyed.

Beca frowns. “I did.”

Chloe shakes her head. “This is chicken and  _rice_ soup.”

“Oh,” Beca says. Then she shrugs. “Isn’t it, like, almost the same thing?”

Chloe blows out a long sigh, like she can’t believe that she has to deal with this. “No, it isn’t.”

“Sorry?” 

Chloe just huffs a little and sets to work opening the can. Beca decides to slip away before Chloe can find something else to nitpick about.

“Hey, Em,” Beca says, knocking softly at Emily’s door. “How’re you feeling?”

“’Kay,” Emily says. She’s curled up in bed, used tissues surrounding her in a ring. (That would explain the redness of her nose.)

Gingerly, Beca picks up Emily’s wastepaper basket and sets it next to her bed—but she sure as hell isn’t going to touch the tissues. “I got you some stuff,” she says, dropping the shopping bag on the bed.

Okay, so she isn’t the greatest when it comes to the whole sick thing. So she doesn’t want to get sick, too. Sue her.

“Thanks,” Emily says, sniffling. She looks small and puppy-like buried under all of her blankets. 

 _Must get that from Chloe,_ Beca thinks. Then she shakes her head. It’s not like Emily and Chloe are related.

“Can I, uh, get you anything else?” Beca asks. 

Emily nods. “Do we have any soup—”

“I brought you soup!” Chloe says cheerfully, pushing though the door with a steaming bowl in her hands.

Emily smiles a little. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“Hey, I bought the soup,” Beca says, crossing her arms. 

Chloe just pats Beca on the arm after she sets the bowl down on Emily’s nightstand. “Need anything else?”

Emily shakes her head. “I think I’m gonna take a nap,” she says.

“Okay,” Chloe says. She presses a kiss to Emily’s forehead (Beca makes a note to remind herself to make Chloe sterilize her mouth before it comes anywhere near Beca’s) and heads out of the room, Beca following.

They linger in the doorway for just a moment. “We’ve so got this mothering thing down,” Chloe whispers, resting a hand on the small of Beca’s back.

“She’s not our daughter,” Beca reminds her, rolling her eyes.

Chloe shrugs. “She might as well be.”


	243. Chapter 243

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person A has had a lot of really good people come and go from their life, so when they meet Person B, they cling to them every day/night and whisper, “Please don’t leave me…" One night, B gets annoyed whenever A says something like that and rolls over to face A then gently cups their face and say with the most honesty into their voice, “I’m never going to leave you.”
> 
> It’s been 5 years since that night, and all A can think as they stare at the gravestone before them is “You lied.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains references to death

Five years is a long time.

It’s long enough for a newborn to become a kindergartener. It’s long enough for television shows to start and end. It’s long enough for clothes to be outgrown and degrees to be earned and relationships to be formed and broken.

It’s long enough for 20,000,000 people to be born. It’s long enough for 280,000,000 people to die.

But Beca remembers five years ago like it was five minutes ago.

_Beca doesn’t like to need people._

_Her father left her when she was eight. Her mother’s boyfriends never lasted more than six months. All four of her grandparents died._

_She can be alone. She_ knows how _to be alone._

_Beca needs Chloe._

_She’s not good at holding onto relationships—it might have something to do with her complete and utter inability to express her feelings._

_It’s a little easier to whisper them in the darkness of their bedroom, with Chloe’s strong arms wrapped comfortingly around Beca’s waist._

_“Please don’t leave me.”  
_

_The words are her nightly ritual, her reassurance that Chloe is here and Chloe is hers. That Chloe loves her._

_Beca can’t sleep without hearing it._

_She knows it’s probably annoying. It would drive_ her  _nuts if it were the other way around._

_Chloe blows out a long sigh and mutters, “Beca…”_

_Beca squeezes her eyes shut. “Sorry.” She’s about to roll over and try and fall asleep, but when she opens her eyes, Chloe’s face is inches from her own._

_Gently, Chloe’s hands cup her cheeks. Her cerulean eyes are wide and honest. “I’ll never leave you,” she says, emphasizing each syllable. Then she presses a kiss to Beca’s forehead. “Okay?”_

_Beca nods a little, feeling the tension in her muscles relax. “Okay.”_

Chloe’s words haunt Beca every night as she tries to force herself to sleep in her cold, empty bed. She hears them echoing in her mind, torturing her. No matter what she does, she can’t escape them.

Beca presses her hand to the cool, rough stone surface of the gravestone, fingers tracing the words— _in loving memory of Chloe Marie Beale_ —hoping desperately to feel some sort of connection to her.

She feels nothing.

Beca sits on the grave for a long time, her falling tears leaving tiny round wet marks on her jeans. 

Today, though, Chloe’s words ease into the back of her mind, two new words instead repeating over and over:

“You lied.”


	244. Chapter 244

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe are about to get married. Chloe wants a Disney princess wedding but Beca vehemently disagrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief mention of the death of a parent

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“No  _freakin’_ way, Chloe.”

“But why  _not_?”

Beca scrunches her hands in her hair. “I am not having a Disney princess-themed wedding, Chlo.”

“But you won’t tell me  _why_ ,” Chloe whines, pushing her bottom lip out and crossing her arms.

“Oh, no,” Beca says, pointing at her. “Don’t give me the face.”

“What face?” Chloe asks, but the left corner of her mouth twitches upward ever-so-slightly, telling Beca that she knows exactly what she’s doing.

“That one,” Beca says, crossing her arms. “The one where you get all pouty and then I…”  _Just give into whatever you want_ , she bites back.

“What’s wrong with a Disney princess wedding, though?” Chloe plops down on the couch and looks up at Beca through her impossibly long eyelashes.

“Um, for one thing, we’re  _adults_ ,” Beca says. “And Disney is for children.”

“That’s not true,” Chloe argues. “Adults dress up as Disney characters all the time. It’s called cosplaying.”

“I don’t care what it’s called,” Beca gripes, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes for a moment. “It’s weird and it’s for kids.” 

When Chloe doesn’t answer, Beca opens her eyes. She instantly notices a shift in Chloe’s demeanor: She’s staring down at her lap, looking a little hurt.

“Sorry,” Beca says cautiously, sitting down next to Chloe. “It’s not weird. It’s just—” She breathes out a huff of frustration. “Why is this so important to you?”

“I—” Chloe’s voice cracks a little, and she clears her throat. “I used to watch the movies with my dad, and he always told me that I would look even more beautiful than the princesses at my wedding, and that it would be just like a fairy tale.”

 _Fuck_ , Beca thinks. Chloe’s father passed away when she was in high school, and Beca knows how difficult it’s been for her to plan this wedding without him.

“Okay, um,” Beca hedges, “how about we can incorporate Disney music into the reception? And you can wear a tiara or something if you want?”

Chloe looks up, a quietly eager hopefulness brushed across her features. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Beca tells her, taking one of her hands. “Just no mice or pumpkins or shit like that.”

Chloe laughs a little. “Okay.”

“And, you know,” Beca says, averting her eyes a bit like she always does when she’s going to say something cheesy, “no matter what our wedding is like, you would always be the princess.”

Beca regrets saying that a few months later when Chloe casually brings it up during her toast at their wedding reception.

She’s lucky she’s that pretty.


	245. Chapter 245

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write one based off the boot camp scene in PP2? Where Beca can’t swim and the Bellas joke about it. So Beca tries to prove them wrong but drowns, so Chloe has to save her.

Beca can’t swim. Actually, Beca can’t really do anything athletic. 

Apparently, this is funny to some people.

(And by  _some people_  Beca means the nine idiots she’s forced to endure this aca-hell with.)

It’s not that she hasn’t  _tried_ to learn to swim—

Wait, no. That’s exactly it. Beca adamantly refused the swimming lessons her parents forced on her as a kid and she doesn’t particularly enjoy wearing bathing suits in public, so she just never bothered.

And now it’s a running joke.

After an entire day of listening to Amy say that Chloe would be happy to teach Beca the breaststroke (complete with a lascivious wink) and hearing Stacie wisecrack that her favorite position is the backstroke (which doesn’t even make  _sense_ ), Beca’s had enough.

 _I’ll show them_ , she thinks as she steels herself, takes a deep breath, and dives into the water. 

And promptly realizes that it was a very, very dumb idea.

Immediately, Beca feels herself sinking. She flails her arms and legs, trying to keep her head above water, but she only succeeds in disorienting herself. The weight of her clothing pulls her down, water rushing into her mouth and nose as she gasps for air. She can hardly cough up the water before more comes in, and panic floods her body.

 _This is it_ , Beca thinks.  _God, what a moronic way to die_.

But then she feels strong arms wrapping around her middle, dragging her up to the surface. It takes her a minute to realize that she can actually inhale  _air_ and not water.

Beca is too busy focusing on breathing to see who her savior is until they reach the dock, onto which she is unceremoniously heaved.

It’s Chloe—of  _course_  it’s Chloe. So now Beca not only owes her $40 for accidentally staining her favorite denim jacket, but her life, as well.

“Jesus, Beca, are you okay?” Chloe asks concernedly. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m fine,” Beca rasps after a moment. 

“You could have  _drowned_ ,” Chloe says. She has the little crease between her eyebrows that she always gets when she’s worried.

“I wasn’t going to,” Beca defends, slowly and cautiously sitting up. 

“That didn’t look like any swimming I had ever seen,” Amy comments, and Beca shoots her a glare.

“I’m  _fine_ ,” Beca repeats. 

“Give her mouth to mouth!” Stacie calls, and the rest of the Bellas snicker.

“Shut the fuck up,” Beca bites out, cheeks reddening.

Chloe just chuckles and settles for a kiss on the cheek.


	246. Chapter 246

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Stacie flirts with Beca at rehearsal one day and it doesn’t really bother Chloe until Beca flirts back and Chloe loses it?

Stacie is a flirt.

This is common knowledge. It doesn’t  _really_  bother Chloe when Stacie does it, because that’s just who Stacie is.

Plus it’d be kind of hypocritical since Chloe is an even bigger culprit in this department. And it’s not like Beca is her girlfriend.

So, logically, it shouldn’t bother her.

Chloe’s been noticing that Stacie has been rather… preoccupied with Beca lately: brushing Beca’s arm as she passes by, placing a lingering hand on Beca’s lower back, laughing a little too loudly at Beca’s wisecracks.

It’s irritating.

But Chloe just keeps reminding herself that Stacie doesn’t mean anything by it.

Still, she grits her teeth when Stacie leans over the piano, boobs practically spilling out of her workout top, and coos, “You must have really quick fingers, Bec, what with all of your mixing.” 

Chloe practically bites her tongue when Stacie punctuates her words with a wink. 

But that doesn’t even come close to preparation for when Beca replies, “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Chloe nearly falls over—she actually does stumble over her feet in surprise, an irrational wave of anger washing over her. 

Before she can stop herself, Chloe storms over to the piano, mimicking Stacie’s position.

Thank God she wore the sports bra that’s a bit too small today.

“She does,” Chloe says, inching closer to Beca. “Becs gives the most  _amazing_ massages.” She looks at Stacie challengingly.

She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly getting competitive with Stacie. Well, she does, technically—it’s apparently not a secret to anyone except Beca that Chloe has  _feelings_ for her. Chloe just doesn’t know why this is happening  _now_.

Maybe because Beca never flirted like that with  _her_.

“Really?” Stacie says, grinning. “You’re going to have to give me a massage sometime, Beca.”

Chloe expects Beca to squirm uncomfortably or stutter out a one-worded answer, but she just says coolly, “I’m free every night except Tuesdays.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Stacie says breathily, and something inside Chloe snaps.

“How about you just back off, Stacie?” Chloe says lowly, moving between the two of them. “You can’t just flirt with Beca like that.”

Stacie raises an eyebrow. “Like what? Like you do?”

Chloe opens her mouth and then closes it again. Stacie has her there, and Chloe can’t think of a rebuttal.

She doesn’t have to, because suddenly Stacie and the rest of the Bellas—who  _of course_ have been listening in on the entire conversation—burst out laughing.

“What?” Chloe asks, crossing her arms. She notices Cynthia Rose handing Amy a handful of dollar bills. “What’s so funny?”

“You called it,” Cynthia Rose says to Amy, shaking her head.

“Called what?” Chloe says. She feels like there’s some big joke that she’s not in on. 

“That if Beca flirted with Stacie you’d lose your shit,” Cynthia Rose explains with a shrug.

“I don’t—I’m not—” Chloe stutters, chancing a glance over at Beca, who looks almost bewildered. “You bet  _money_ on this?”

Amy just waves her hand. “We were just trying to convince our sexually confused DJ that you had the hots for her, even though the aliens on the moon can see your enormous gay crush all the way up there.”

“There aren’t any aliens on the moon—” Stacie starts to correct, but Amy cuts her off.

“I told you so,” Amy says to Beca, who just glances sheepishly at Chloe.

“Sorry,” Beca says.

Chloe leans in close enough to smell the shampoo Beca uses. “You better show me how sorry you are after practice,” she whispers, relishing in the way Beca instantly goes red.

Two can play at this game.


	247. Chapter 247

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe dyes her hair and Beca reacts

“Chloe, I’m ho—whoa!”

Beca stops abruptly in the middle of the kitchen, nearly dropping the bag of groceries in her hand.

There’s a woman standing at the stove. And she has blond hair.

“What’s wrong?”

It takes Beca a moment realize that this person is  _Chloe_.

“Holy shit,” Beca breathes, “I thought you were Aubrey.”

Chloe laughs, her nose scrunching adorably. “I just felt like a change.”

Beca just stares. 

“What do you think?” Chloe asks, touching her hair self-consciously. 

Beca pauses. It’s not that she  _doesn’t_ like it—it’s just… so un-Chloe. The red hair has been her trademark for as long as Beca has known her.

Of course, Chloe looks beautiful in every color and style.

“It’s weird.” Beca knows that it’s absolutely the wrong thing to say as soon as it comes out of her mouth. Chloe’s face falls, and Beca rushes to say, “No, no, that came out wrong. I just meant that it’ll take some getting used to. I do like it.”

Chloe looks up cautiously. “You like it?”

“Yeah,” Beca says, realizing that it’s true. The color really brings out the vibrance in Chloe’s eyes. She looks like the character from that Disney movie the kids of her co-workers won’t stop belting at the top of their lungs—Ilse? Ella?

Whatever.

“You look beautiful,” Beca says with a soft smile. She’s still not very good with this romantic sentimental crap, so she has to force the words out a little bit.

But the smile that spreads across Chloe’s face is worth it. “Thanks, babe,” she says, leaning in to peck Beca on the cheek, but Beca turns her head to catch Chloe’s lips on hers.

Yeah, this is definitely going to take some getting used to, because when Beca opens her eyes, all she can see is blond hair, and she balks for a moment.

“What?” Chloe asks, pulling back slightly.

“I keep feeling like I’m making out with Aubrey,” Beca says, wrinkling her nose.

Chloe chuckles, her low tone, mussed hair, and swollen lips making it incredibly sexy. “Fulfilling some of your freshman-year fantasies, Bec?” she jokes. When Beca doesn’t answer and turns bright red, looking away, Chloe gasps. “Oh my God, you totally had a thing for Aubrey!”

“I did not!” Beca denies, although one particularly… explicit dream she had years ago is suddenly assaulting her mind with images.

“You so did!” Chloe counters, smirking devilishly. “If you want, I can grab the pitch pipe and order you to lick my—”

“Shut up!” Beca shouts, clapping her hands over her ears as Chloe bursts out laughing. Beca just glares at her.

She is  _never_ going to live this down.


	248. Chapter 248

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was stargazing in a field and you didn't see me and tripped over me.”

Chloe really likes the stars.

She doesn’t know a whole lot about them, but she likes to look up at them. There’s something calming about the sheer enormity of the universe—something that looks so small from a distance but is actually bigger than anyone can truly fathom.

It’s perfect weather out tonight: warm but not hot, with a light breeze. The sky is free of clouds, so her view is unimpeded.

If any of the Bellas knew that Chloe was lying out in the middle of the Barden baseball at one in the morning she’d probably get a lecture, but for now she’s just content to lie down and forget about all of her problems for a little while.

Maybe Chloe gets a little  _too_  engrossed in trying to remember what Stacie had told her about the constellations, because she doesn’t realize that she’s not alone until the other person literally trips over her, jolting Chloe out of her astronomical bliss.

“Shit, sorry!” the person says, and once Chloe’s initial panic from being startled subsides, she realizes that the person is—

“Beca?”

“Chloe?” Beca asks, tugging the hood of her sweatshirt off of her head. “What are you doing out here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I could ask you the same question,” Chloe counters, sitting up.

Beca rubs the back of her head in the way that she does when she’s nervous about something. “Stacie said that you can see Venus or some shit like that tonight.”

Chloe blinks in surprise. “And you came out here to see that?”

“So what if I did?” Beca says defensively, crossing her arms.

Something clicks in Chloe’s brain. “Bec, I’m not going to make fun of you,” she says, and Beca relaxes a little. “I just didn’t realize you were into space stuff.”

Beca shrugs. “I don’t know. Stacie never shuts up about it so I thought I’d check it out. Plus, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Chloe says. Then she pats the grass next to her. “Come here.”

Beca sits down to the left of Chloe, mimicking her position when Chloe lies back down once more. They stare up at the sky in silence for several minutes before Chloe turns her attention to Beca.

Beca’s hair is curled a little at the ends from the slight humidity still lingering in the late-fall air, framing her face. Chloe’s always had a thing for Beca’s profile, and she thinks that Beca looks exceptionally beautiful in the low light of the moon.

After a moment Beca realizes she’s being scrutinized. “What?” she asks, turning to look at Chloe. Her face is only inches away, and Chloe can’t help but let her gaze flicker down to her lips.

“You’re pretty,” Chloe says honestly—both because it’s true and because it’s fun to watch Beca’s cheeks go red like that.

“Shut up,” Beca says, wrinkling her nose a bit. Chloe knows that’s her way of saying  _thank you_. “Stop staring at me.”

“Can’t help it,” Chloe says, grinning. “You’re more beautiful than the sky.”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Beca repeats, but Chloe catches the way the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, just for a second.

She also thinks that maybe—just maybe—Beca’s gaze flits to Chloe’s lips as well.

“Make me,” Chloe teases, but it comes out breathy and low.

And then she feels light pressure on her lips, just for a fleeting moment. It isn’t even until after Beca pulls back that Chloe realizes she just  _kissed_ her.

“Cho?”

The words pull Chloe out of her stunned silence, and she realizes Beca is looking at her anxiously. 

In lieu of an answer, Chloe just shifts closer to Beca, leaning her head against Beca’s shoulder. 

“So if we come out here during a meteor shower,” Chloe says, “does that mean you’ll let me get to third?”

Beca responds with a smack to Chloe’s side.


	249. Chapter 249

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you please please make an AU where Chloe takes (::coughs:: /borrows/) most of Beca's plaid clothes?

 

 

Beca doesn’t like to share.

She can do it—sarcastic remarks notwithstanding—but she doesn’t like it.

She paid for her shit, so why should she let someone else take it?

Chloe doesn’t seem to understand this. Or she just doesn’t care. Either is a highly plausible hypothesis.

The first time Chloe strolled into the kitchen before class in Beca’s purple plaid button-down, Beca had been mildly irritated.

“You go shopping recently?” she had asked sarcastically. “At that new store, My Closet?”

But Chloe had just laughed. “I like it,” she said, not even offering an apology.

Beca just rolled her eyes.

And then it becomes kind of a pattern: Chloe occasionally picks through Beca’s closet after her morning shower, her wet hair still leaving water droplets trickling down her back.

Beca can only watch, bemused, as Chloe finally settles on Beca’s blue and grey plaid shirt to go with her grey shirt or Beca’s favorite red plaid shirt to go with her new Converse.

She realizes pretty quickly that resistance is futile.

Plus, Chloe always repays Beca for it, be it in gummy bears or iced coffee or kisses on the cheek.

There’s something that Beca really likes about seeing Chloe in her clothes; it feels strangely domestic, something Beca never thought she’d crave. It’s like a dog marking its territory by peeing on a tree—except, you know, not as bestial or creepy.

It’s comforting.

One day, Beca is rummaging through Chloe’s closet looking to reclaim one of her shirts when she finds at least five plaid shirts that definitely aren’t hers—they must be Chloe’s. Which doesn’t make sense.

“Chlo?” Beca asks, poking her head back into the room where Chloe is flipping through a book on her bed. 

“Yes?” Chloe answers.

“You have a ton of plaid shirts,” Beca says, holding up one as evidence.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, pausing to look up at Beca. “And?”

“You’re always stealing mine,” Beca tells her. “Not that I really mind, but why not wear your own?”

Chloe just shrugs. “I like yours better.”

Beca’s eyes knit together in confusion. “Why?”

“They smell like you,” Chloe says simply. “It’s like you’re with me all day.”

“Oh.” Beca ducks back into the closet so Chloe can’t see the stupid grin that spreads across her face. She’s not sure why the information pleases her so much. 

She looks back at Chloe’s collection of plaid shirts, then over her shoulder at the door. Cautiously, she presses her nose to the fabric of one of the shirts. Despite the fact that Chloe hasn’t worn it in quite some time, it still smells like her—like warmth and laughter and the floral shampoo she uses. 

Beca tugs the shirt off of its hanger and drapes it over arm.

She’s going to “borrow” this one.


	250. Chapter 250

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe has a nickname for Beca and she’s the only one that uses it but one day someone else uses it and Chloe gets really territorial about it?

For a rather closed-off person, Beca shares a lot of pieces of herself: her music, her ideas, her time, her attention.

Chloe isn’t really a jealous type, but sometimes it bothers her when she goes an entire day without seeing Beca even once.

This, though, is hers, a nickname all her own: Becs.

It’s not particularly creative—it’s practically her name—and Beca acts like she hates it, but it’s Chloe’s  _thing_  with Beca.

When Beca scrunches up her nose and grumbles a little in response, that’s Chloe’s. The hidden smiles and eye-rolls and cheeks tinted red are just for her.

So when Chloe hears Stacie say, “Becs, can you help me move the chairs?” Chloe can’t help but get a little angry.

“Don’t call her that,” Chloe snaps, her hand tightening around the plastic of her water bottle, emitting a crunching sound. “She doesn’t like it.”

Chloe thinks that she sees a tiny flicker of amusement cross Stacie’s face. “Why not?” Stacie asks coolly. “You do it all the time.”

Chloe opens her mouth to retort, then closes it again. She doesn’t really have a rebuttal for that. “That’s different.”

“How so?” Stacie asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s mine,” Chloe grits out before she can process what she’s saying. “That’s my name for Beca.”

“Guys, come on,” Beca says, piping up for the first time. She looks almost bewildered. “It’s all good.”

“So back off,” Chloe growls. 

She doesn’t know what’s happening, what’s making her react this way. Maybe she just wants Beca to herself. Maybe she wants more than just a nickname.

Stacie stares at her for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Chloe asks, not appreciating being left out of whatever joke this apparently is.

“Sorry,” Stacie gasps out, catching her breath. She turns to Cynthia Rose. “I  _told_  you so,” she says.

“Alright, fine,” Cynthia Rose says, holding up her hands. “I fold.”

“What is happening?” Chloe says, a little bit more insistent.

“Stacie here bet us twenty dollars that if she used your lesbian nickname for the DJ that you’d flip out,” Amy explains impassively. 

“And you did,” Stacie adds, still giggling.

Chloe just looks around in disbelief before consciously glancing at Beca. She’s looking at some point on the floor, blushing.

“Ha ha,” Chloe says sarcastically. “Everyone, get back to work. And,” she adds, smirking wickedly, “anyone who calls Beca ‘Becs” is doing extra cardio.”

She winks at Beca as she walks past, causing Beca to inhale sharply.

Chloe files that away in her brain for later analysis.


	251. Chapter 251

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca is giving birth to one of their children and Amy makes a bet with Chloe on how many times Beca curses during the delivery.

“I’ll put twenty dollars on thirty times.”

“Thirty? No way. It’s gonna be at least fifty.”

Chloe scoffs. “Beca has better control over her mouth than that.”

“Yeah? Well, then you can put your money where her mouth is,” Amy says, jabbing a thumb in Beca’s direction.

“Can you two shut the fuck up?” Beca gripes, glaring at them. The sweat beaded on her forehead glistens under the harsh fluorescent lighting. “I’m in labor here.”

Amy raises an eyebrow, and Chloe acquiesces, “Okay, twenty dollars on forty times.”

“I say sixty,” Amy bets with a shrug. 

Chloe glances back over at Beca; she feels a little bad for making bets on how many times her wife will curse over the course of her labor while Beca is lying in bed, sweaty and panting from her contractions.

Still, twenty dollars is twenty dollars. 

The only thing to do now is wait.

* * *

“Almost there, Beca!” the OB/GYN encourages from her seat between Beca’s legs. (Chloe had felt a little territorial for a moment before she realized that she definitely did  _not_ want to see whatever was going on down there.) “We’re gonna push on three, okay?”

“Shit,” Beca mutters under her breath, hand already squeezing Chloe’s. 

Chloe glances up at Amy—who, the wise woman that she is, is sitting several feet away—and she nods, signaling that she’s counted the curse, making a tally mark on a small notepad.

“You’re doing great, Bec,” Chloe says, pressing a kiss to Beca’s now-drenched forehead. It’s kind of gross, but that’s what Chloe will do for love.

“You’re lucky you’re not the one who knocked me up because you would be dead right now,” Beca growls through gritted teeth, and Chloe just rolls her eyes. That’s the eighth threat on her life, but, to be fair, Beca  _has_ been in labor for thirteen hours.

“Okay, Beca,” the doctor calls, “one, two, three, push!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Beca yells, so loudly that the passing people in the hallway stop to look in the window of the room.

“It’s a girl!” the doctor says enthusiastically at the same time Amy shakes her head and tosses her notepad to the floor.


	252. Chapter 252

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you please do one with Chloe being a drug addict like hard drugs and one day she ODs and Beca finds her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of drug use, addiction, and, obviously, death.

Beca has had suspicions.

She’s had maybes and inklings and hunches. Questionable things she’s noticed—like Chloe always wearing long sleeves, or always wanting to hang out at her apartment, or the way her cheeks seemed to hollow and her jeans seemed looser.

But Beca had pushed those thoughts out of her mind, because this was  _Chloe_ —happy, bubbly, friendly, kind-of-weird-but-still-lovable Chloe.

In hindsight, maybe Beca hadn’t seen it because she didn’t  _want_ to see it.

If  _Chloe Beale_  had succumbed to heroin, then what would stop the rest of them?

So Beca ignored it, like she so expertly does. And she made excuses: “She’s just not feeling well,” or “she just really stressed,” or “she’s just been going to the gym a lot.”

The one time Beca got a glimpse of Chloe’s arm—track-marked and purple and scarred—as Chloe came out of the shower, Beca had felt the overwhelming urge to throw up.

Here was the evidence, presented clearly in her face, and she swept it under the rug.

It makes her think that this could have been prevented if she had just  _said_ something.

Which, by extension, means that this is her fault.

She could have prevented that Thursday afternoon when she knocked at Chloe’s door and no one answered. She turned her spare key in the lock—the one that Chloe gave her a year ago and never asked for its return—and pushed open the door.

Beca could have stopped the way that the air hung heavy and thick, still and eerie over the apartment, the creaking of the faux-hardwood floors under Beca’s footsteps.

She could have kept herself from finding Chloe lying on her back in her bed in just her bra and a pair of shorts, blue eyes staring up, unblinking and lifeless, at the cracked plaster ceiling.

Beca could have saved herself from the bruises on her knees where she fell to the floor. The sore throat from screaming in anguish when she touched Chloe’s cold, stiff arm as she clung desperately to her, praying she would suddenly wake up. The migraine from crying for hours because the only person she ever truly loved was gone.

And she could have stopped it, if only she had seen what was right in front of her.


	253. Chapter 253

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt idea: Beca being busted jamming out to Taylor swift by Chloe and instead of making fun of Beca, Chloe just joins her.

Chloe’s suspected that Beca is a closeted Taylor Swift fan for a long time. After all, her songs don’t just “happen to pop up” in their arrangements four times in a row.

Even if that’s what Beca tries to tell her.

Chloe’s just been waiting for the perfect opportunity to expose her—or, rather, an opportunity that doesn’t involve a violation of privacy, like going through her phone.

(Beca had set very clear “privacy rules” with Chloe once she joined the Bellas.)

So when Chloe hears “Shake It Off” drifting under the crack of Beca’s door, Chloe carefully turns the knob and peeks in the crack. What she sees isn’t what she expected.

Beca is waving her arms around spastically, flipping her hair and jumping up and down as she  _very_ enthusiastically lip-synchs along to the words. Chloe thinks this might be Beca’s interpretation of  _dancing_. 

Her energy is kind of infectious, actually; Chloe finds herself grinning and bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. 

 _What the hell?_ Chloe thinks, pushing open the door and making Beca’s solo dance party a duet.

Beca freezes, eyes wide, when she notices Chloe, and for a second Chloe thinks she’s about to bolt. But Chloe just continues with her own crazy dancing, and after a moment, Beca joins her.

It’s the most Chloe has laughed in a long time, and the most relaxed she’s seen Beca in… well, ever. 

Chloe’ll make fun of her tomorrow.


	254. Chapter 254

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe prompt: Beca and Chloe always have little fights over stupid things and one day they start arguing about which cereal's better and.... it gets out of hand.

The slamming of the cabinet startles Beca out of her half-asleep cereal-shoveling stupor, and she nearly knocks over her glass of orange juice when she jumps.

“Beca, why don’t we have any Raisin Bran?” Chloe asks in the clipped tone that usually signifies her annoyance about something. “Didn’t you go shopping yesterday?”

“I didn’t buy any,” Beca says simply.

“Why not? You remembered to buy whatever sugary crap this is,” Chloe says, gesturing to the box of Frosted Flakes. 

“Because Raisin Bran is for old people,” Beca grumbles, pulling the box closer to herself.

Chloe huffs indignantly. “It is not!”

“Yes, it is,” Beca insists. 

“Well, by that standard, Frosted Flakes are for children,” Chloe shoots back, crossing her arms and —Jesus Christ—it is  _way_ too early to be arguing.

“I don’t care,” Beca says petulantly, probably helping Chloe’s argument. “And no one  _really_ likes Raisin Bran. They just say they do so you think that they’re healthy or some shit.”

“ _I_ like it, and I would  _appreciate_ it if you would buy the things I put on the list,” Chloe says tersely. 

“Well, the checkout girl was cute, and I didn’t want her to think that I was living with my grandparents,” Beca says casually, fighting the mischievous smirk pulling at her cheeks.

Chloe’s mouth falls open, and she looks so thoroughly offended that Beca can’t help it—she bursts out laughing. 

She’s trying to catch her breath when she feels something hit her head. A lot of somethings. Actually, it’s an avalanche of Frosted Flakes.

“You little—” Beca shakes her head, sending cereal flying across the kitchen. “You’re going to pay for that, you fucknut,” she threatens as Chloe doubles over with laughter.

“Not if you can’t catch me!” Chloe calls as she darts out of the room, tossing the empty cereal box over her shoulder.

Beca jumps up to chase after her, but the flakes stick to and crunch under her feet, making an even bigger mess. She sighs.

Next time she’ll just buy the damn Raisin Bran.


	255. Chapter 255

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bechloe song prompt! That one song that's all over the radio all the time now, like "I think I found myself a cheerleader, she's always right there right when I need her…" because Chloe is always there for Beca on her bad days and doesn't let her talk bad about herself.

“Original voice,” Beca grumbles to herself as she frustratedly pounds on the mouse of her laptop. “What the fuck does that even mean, original voice?”

Beca’s not good at very many things: she’s not athletic or particularly good at school. She doesn’t even have very good handwriting. But music she’s good at—music, she can do.

Or, she thought she could. Until an actual music producer told her she couldn’t.

And so here she is at two in the morning, hoping an original song will magically pour out of her fingertips and into her keyboard.

Needless to say, Beca hasn’t made very much progress—actually, she hasn’t made any progress.

She’s tired and frustrated and she just wants to lie down and cry.

So that’s what she does.

“Beca?”

 _Fuck_ , Beca thinks. She should have known that Chloe was going to pop up. The girl always seems to know whenever Beca is upset. It’s like she can sense it.

“Yeah?” Beca hastily wipes her eyes and nose, turning away from Chloe to collect herself.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Beca says dryly, but Chloe ignores her.

“You’re upset,” Chloe says. It’s a statement, not a question.

“I’m fine,” Beca tells her, but she’s too exhausted to make it sound genuine, and her voice comes out strained around the lump in her throat.

“You’re not fine,” Chloe says quietly. She rests a gentle hand on Beca’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Beca sighs. It’s easier just to tell Chloe things instead of dancing around them. The girl is a marathon conversationist: If Chloe wants to find something out, she  _will_ find out.

“I had a bad day at my internship,” Beca allows, eyes closing momentarily as Chloe reaches up to brush the hair out of Beca’s face.

“How so?” Chloe asks.

“My boss didn’t like my demo,” Beca admits quietly— _God_ , saying it out loud makes her feel like an even bigger failure. “He wants to hear my ‘original voice,’ but I don’t have one.” She sighs frustratedly as she feels the tears prick at her eyes again. “Maybe I’m just not good enough for this.”

“Hey,” Chloe cuts in. “You absolutely are good enough for this, Bec.” Beca scoffs. “No, seriously. You’re the most talented person I know.”

Beca just shakes her head. “Well, you’re not a music producer, so…” A beat of silence passes and Beca presses a hand to her forehead. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean that.”

Chloe is quiet for a moment before she begins to… sing? 

 _“Oh, her eyes, her eyes_  
Make the stars look like they’re not shining.  
Her hair, her hair  
Falls perfectly without her trying.  
She’s so beautiful,  
And I tell her everyday.”

“Oh, God,” Beca groans, covering her quickly reddening face. But, of course, Chloe just ignores her with a cheeky grin.

 _“I know, I know_  
When I compliment her she won’t believe me.  
And it’s so, it’s so  
Sad to think that she don’t see what I see.  
But every time she asks me, ‘Do I look okay?’  
I say…”

Chloe pokes Beca in the shoulder as she sings, tugging her hands away from her face. And, to her surprise, Beca finds herself grinning. Only Chloe would see it fit to belt out Bruno Mars at two am.

 _“When I see your face,_  
There’s not a thing that I would change.  
'Cause you’re amazing  
Just the way you are.  
And when you smile,  
The whole world stops and stares for a while.  
'Cause, girl, you’re amazing  
Just the way you are.”

“Are you finished?” Beca grumbles once Chloe finally stops, but she laughs a little at the proud smile Chloe gives her. “You’re an idiot,” Beca adds. She doesn’t want anyone to know that she actually  _enjoyed_  this late-night serenade.

“I love you,” Chloe says simply, “and I believe in you.” She presses a kiss to Beca’s forehead; Beca’s stomach flutters and her skin tingles at the site of contact. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Beca whispers back, and Chloe gives her one last smile before heading out of the room.

Beca turns over and stares at the wall for a long while before drifting off to sleep. 

She thinks she can make this whole music thing work. As long as she has Chloe on her side.


	256. Chapter 256

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine one night Person A says they’re going to pretend to have a fever the next day so they can skip work and spend time with B. The next morning, A really does wake up with a fever.

Beca loves Saturday mornings.

As a teacher, Chloe gets Saturdays off, and they lounge in bed together until nearly noon before showering together.

They’re big fans of water conservation.

Beca looks forward to it all week; when work is stressful, she just thinks about Saturday and what oversized flannel shirt Chloe is going to wear around the apartment (sans pants).

So when her boss asks her to fill in for his assistant at the studio on Saturday, Beca is not pleased. Actually, she’s—

“I’m really fuckin’ pissed.”

“It’s just one Saturday, Bec,” Chloe says on Friday evening after Beca storms through the door. “And we’ll still have Sunday.”

“No,” Beca says, flopping down on the couch and crossing her arms, “I have to go finish that album on Sunday.” Apparently, Sunday was Katy Perry’s only free day this month.

“Oh, right,” Chloe says. “Well, we can still have a good evening!” She claps her hands together like a camp counselor determined to have  _fun_.

“Not after I work all day with my temperamental boss,” Beca grumbles. She drags her toe over the carpet, drawing lines. “I really wanted to spend the day with you,” she adds quietly.

Chloe leans over and presses a kiss to Beca’s temple. “I know,” she says, moving to massages Beca’s shoulders, as she always does when Beca is stressed.

Beca can barely relax before she springs off of the couch. “I have an idea!” she says, heading into the kitchen to dig through her bag for her phone. 

Chloe follows, leaning against the counter. “And what’s that?”

“I call in sick,” Beca says simply. “Say I have a fever or some shit. He won’t want me anywhere near him.”

“A fever one day and working again the next?” Chloe points out, raising an eyebrow in amusement. 

“It’s fine,” Beca says dismissively, already holding the phone to her ear. “Yeah, hey,” she says into the phone, “so I’m not feeling so great.” She coughs. “No, you’re probably okay. My wife works with kids.” She turns and mouths  _he hates kids_  to Chloe. “No, I can’t make it in tomorrow. I have a fever… Yeah, I’ll be there Sunday. Okay, bye.”

Beca hangs up and tosses her phone back in her bag. “See? Easy.”

Chloe studies her for a moment, then shrugs. “If you say so.” She whips her shirt off and tosses it on the floor.

Things progress rather quickly from there.

* * *

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

Chloe jerks awake. “Huh?” She blinks her eyes open to see Beca sitting up in bed next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Beca turns and looks at her. Her nose is red and her forehead is sweaty, and when she speaks, her voice sounds nasal. “I think I’m sick,” Beca says, sounding thoroughly offended.

Chloe sits up quickly and presses the back of her hand to Beca’s forehead. “Babe, I think you have a fever.”

“Nooo,” Beca groans. 

“I guess it’s a good thing you called in sick,” Chloe says, already getting out of bed to make Beca some tea.

“I wasn’t supposed to actually  _get_  sick,” Beca whines, looking disappointed.

“I know,” Chloe says, moving the box of tissues on top of the dressed to the nightstand within Beca’s reach. “At least we’ll still get to spend the day together?” she tries.

Beca just huffs and throws herself back down against the pillows. “Can we still take our shower?” she asks, looking up at Chloe hopefully.

Chloe laughs. “Sure, Bec. Whatever you want.”

Whatever Beca is about to reply is cut off by a sneeze.


	257. Chapter 257

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grey's Anatomy AU where Chloe is Arizona, and Beca is Callie. Set in S9, post-plane crash. In which Beca makes the decision to cut off Chloe's infected leg and she's scared af that the bubbly pediatric surgeon (who wears heelys to work and is all sunshiney and smiley to the kid patients) won't be the same anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for not-fun medical stuff outlined in the prompt. Also death.

Beca stares at the wall across from her blankly.

She doesn’t know what she’s waiting for; the wall has been its same neutral beige for the hour and eighteen minutes she’s been staring at it. 

Nobody has any answers to offer—it’s an impossible situation.

Yet Beca has to make a choice.

 _Had_  to make a choice. She just hopes that she made the right one.

Well, that isn’t really how she sees it: Death or amputation doesn’t really  _offer_ a choice. 

But Chloe had been so adamantly opposed…

Beca sighs, drags her hands down her face, and slowly takes off her scrub cap. Finally letting her hair out of its elastic doesn’t provide her the relief it usually does.

Beca opens the door and walks down the hallway, remembering with a pang in her chest how Chloe skidded down the linoleum on those stupid Heely shoes with a bright smile.

She decides to take the long way around to Chloe’s room.

Doctors and nurses part like the sea for her; everyone knows what has just transpired. How can they not? It feels like everyone in the state has heard about the plane crash, has heard about the deaths and the losses and the pain.

 _Wait until the media gets wind of this_ , Beca thinks as she comes face-to-face with the door to Chloe’s room.

She doesn’t know how long she looks at it; it could be two minutes or twenty.

As terrible as life is right now, she can still hold onto the hope that Chloe doesn’t hate her for what she’s done—for what she  _had_ to do.

Steeling herself with the memory of Chloe saying, “For better or for worse,” Beca opens the door.

Immediately, she bursts into tears.

Chloe is smiling—softly, weakly. But she’s smiilng.

They’ll get through this.


	258. Chapter 258

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Chloe takes Beca to the beach. She forgets to tell her it's a nude beach.

Beca doesn’t like the beach: She doesn’t like sand, or the sun, or the ocean. Or people. Or children, which frequently populate beaches. 

But Chloe likes the beach. And Beca likes Chloe. Well, most of the time. And she’s definitely a fan of Chloe in a bikini.

There’s just one  _tiny_ issue.

“Um, Chloe,” Beca says, her voice tight and controlled, “why are none of these people wearing clothes?”

Beca pretty readily admits that she’s bisexual—but there are some boobs and some penises that she just does  _not_ want to see, no matter the context. And the surprise factor is just making everything worse.

Chloe looks at her for a moment, brows knitted in confusion, before she says, “Oh! Did I not tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Beca asks, turning her back on the rather… round man walking directly into her field of vision.

“This is a nude beach!” Chloe says with enthusiasm, the same way she would say, “We’re getting a puppy!” or “Let’s go get ice cream!”

Beca does not share her sentiment.

“Why would you bring me to a nude beach?” Beca says, crossing her arms. She’s trying not to get angry since Chloe is obviously excited about this, but she feels kind of blindsided. She doesn’t even like wearing a two-piece bathing suit.

“I thought it would help you,” Chloe says. She seems to sense Beca’s discomfort, because she drops her bag in the sand and takes Beca’s hand. “I know you’re self-conscious—even though you have no reason to be,” she adds, “so I thought maybe if everyone was naked you’d feel better.”

Beca stares at her. That is the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard anyone say, but at the same time it’s that preposterous twisted logic that she loves Chloe for. It would almost be touching, if there weren’t nude middle-aged men and women roaming about around them.

“I… appreciate the sentiment,” Beca says, pinching the bridge of her nose, “but I don’t want to…” She trails off, blushing. “I’d like to keep my clothes on.”

“That’s okay,” Chloe says brightly, picking the bag back up and leading Beca over to an open spot on the sand. Before Beca can blink, she yanks her shirt over her head and her shorts down and  _okay_ , she’s not wearing any clothes.

Beca is torn between appreciating the fact that her girlfriend is standing in front of her completely naked and not wanting anyone  _else_ to be privy to that view. 

“I’m gonna check out the water,” Chloe says, and before Beca can get any words out, she sashays away, leaving Beca standing there watching her dumbly.

Next time, Beca is picking the beach.


	259. Chapter 259

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a high school AU where Beca and Chloe are locker neighbors and they gradually get closer throughout the year?

The girl at locker 256 doesn’t say very much.

Chloe notices this. She notices a lot of things about the girl: she has no decorations inside of her locker (unlike Chloe, who has thoroughly personalized hers), she constantly has a pair of headphones around her neck, and her nails are always painted black.

Chloe knows that her name is Beca, even if Beca won’t tell her that herself.

She’s intrigued by this girl of few words and decorations, even if Beca doesn’t seem to notice her existence.

Her best friend Aubrey doesn’t understand this—actually, her words were, “That girl looks like she’s killed three people, Chloe.” But Chloe doesn’t care; she’s determined to become friends with this girl.

Just saying hi apparently doesn’t seem to be a good course of action: Beca just stares at her for a moment before turning and walking away.

* * *

The next week Chloe bakes chocolate chip cookies. Beca can’t say no to cookies, right?

“Um, no thanks.”

Okay. Evidently, she can. But at least Chloe got a few words out of her, right?

* * *

Chloe takes a hint from the perpetual headphones and tries asking Beca about music.

“What are you listening to?” she asks after Beca pulls her headphones off of her ears and stoops down to grab a book.

Beca looks up at her briefly. “Nobody you’d know.”

Chloe leans against her locker and crosses her arms. “Try me,” she says confidently. 

“Steve Aoki,” Beca says.

_Uh_. The name rings no bells. Chloe opens her mouth and closes it, feeling stupid.

Beca takes her silence as an answer; she quirks a brow at Chloe before shouldering her bag and heading down the hall.

Well, it was  _almost_ a conversation.

* * *

Beca surprises Chloe a couple of days later.

(Chloe refers to it as The Breakthrough.)

“I made this for you.”

Chloe glances up to see Beca holding out a CD. She stares at it dumbly, prompting Beca to huff and say, “It’s Steve Aoki. You know, because you’ve never heard of him?”

Chloe snaps out of her shock and takes the CD. “Thank you, Beca,” she says quietly, hoping Beca can hear the appreciation in her voice.

“It’s nothing,” Beca says quickly, slamming her locker shut. Chloe looks up in time to see her face flush red before she turns away.

Across the plastic of the CD case is written  _Chloe_.

It makes her smile.

* * *

Throughout the year, they bond through music.

Beca gives Chloe CDs—just different artists, to “introduce” her to some “good music for a change.” Chloe makes Beca CDs, too: her favorite top-40 hits along with some Stevie Wonder and Aretha Franklin and other singers her parents listened to when she was a kid and remind her of home, of love.

And in between music, they talk. They talk as much as they can in the ten or so minutes before homework or between classes. Chloe doesn’t learn an awful lot about Beca, but she learns she wants to know more.

They’re kind of friends. There are lingering glances and passing touches and one instance in which Beca actually hugged Chloe, but for now, they’re friends. Almost.

* * *

Beca is rather stoic amidst the chaos of the final bell on the last day of school. 

Kids are running around and shouting to each other, and the sounds of lockers slamming fills the hallway. But Beca is just loading the last of her things into her backpack.

“Have a good summer,” Chloe says to her, realizing that she’s going to miss Beca’s impassive glare and sardonic comments.

“You, too,” Beca says, and Chloe thinks it might be the nicest thing Beca’s ever said to her.

“I’ll…” Chloe doesn’t know what to say. It would probably weird Beca out if she asked her to hang out (even though that’s what Chloe wants to do), so she just says, “I’ll see you in September?”

Beca gives her a half-smile. “Same time, same place.”

And then she disappears into the crowd.


	260. Chapter 260

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Chrissie has confirmed that Chloe roomed alone and Flo roomed with Lilly, could you please do a piece on how the Bellas decided to allocate the rooms in the Bella house?

The Bellas have a house.

Beca isn’t sure whether this development is due to their recent a cappella success or the fact that one of Barden’s fraternities got shut down for a hazing incident and the house was suddenly available. 

Either way, the Bellas have a house.

It’s a pretty big one, too—there are enough bedrooms for everyone if they pair up, with one single room left over in the renovated attic. 

Obviously, Beca is going to pair with Chloe. The two spent so much time together last year that they might have well been roommates, anyway.

“Not so fast, Tegan and Sara.”

Beca looks at Amy, confused. They’re all sitting in the living room, their belongings scattered around them. 

“Amy, what—”

“We’ve talked about it,” Cynthia Rose cuts in, “and we think it would be best if you two roomed separately.”

“Wait a second,” Beca says, shaking her head. “You’ve  _talked_ about this?”

Amy nods. “We had a Facebook group chat.”

“About… me and Chloe,” Beca says slowly, trying to make sense of this.

Amy nods again.

“ _Why_?”

“We just think that…” Cynthia Rose pauses for a moment, considering her words. 

Beca can see Chloe looking at her out of the corner of her eye, and her skin heats.

“…you guys should maybe have some space between you two,” Cynthia Rose finishes.

_What?_

“Oh, my God,” Chloe huffs, smacking the arm of the couch. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

“If you guys room together you’re inevitably going to bang,” Amy says flippantly, and Beca slides down in her seat and covers her face with her hands. “Be it at three in the morning when you’re both smashed after a party, or maybe one night when one of you is feeling lonely and the other just wants to”—Amy holds her fingers up in air quotes—”be a good friend, or—”

“Okay, we get it,” Beca cuts her off, face burning. She can’t even look in Chloe’s direction. “Chloe and I are  _not_ going to… do that. In case you guys have forgotten, I have a  _boyfriend_.”

Stacie snorts. “That’s irrelevant.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beca demands.

“That when it’s late and you’re lonely and horny—”

“Never mind,” Beca says quickly, holding up her hands. She pointedly stares at the floor, knowing that if she looks at Chloe she might combust from embarrassment. Chloe, who’s barely said anything since this conversation began. “I don’t understand why you guys think that we’re going to… We’re just  _friends_.”

There’s a beat of silence before all of the Bellas, including Lilly, burst out laughing.

“Alright, you know what? Fine!” Beca half-shouts, springing out of her chair. “Amy, I’ll room with you.” She grabs her backpack and storms out of the room towards the stairs, trying not to notice the way that Chloe’s face falls a little, just for a second.


	261. Chapter 261

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be great if you could do some Beca and Chloe + spooky shenanigans for the fall season

Beca hates Halloween. 

Actually, Beca hates fall. 

She hates the cold and she hates having to stomp through the leaves on her way to class. She hates pumpkin spice  _anything_ , but even more, she hates people who lose their shit over it.

Chloe has concluded that Beca hates fun.

So she makes Beca a deal: one Halloween-related activity of Chloe’s choosing and Chloe will get stupid drunk and eat candy with Beca on the actual date—and that’s it.

It’s a pretty generous offer, Chloe thinks, since she is the Holiday Queen.

Which is probably why Beca so readily agrees to it.

“Haunted houses are stupid,” Beca grumbles as they hand they move slowly through the line.

Chloe should have stipulated that there would be no complaining.

“Good,” Chloe says, “then you can hold my hand when I get scared.”

At this Beca seems to perk up. “Of course,” she says, but she throws in an eye roll for good measure.

“Okay guys, just hand your tickets to me as you go in,” a guy with shirt brown hair in a polo shirt bearing the logo of the fair says. “Remember, keep your hands to yourselves at all times.”

Chloe hands him their tickets before cautiously tugging Beca through the entrance.

It’s dark inside, and fog swirls around their feet as an eerie soundtrack plays. Chloe’s hand tightens around Beca’s as she starts to feel a little nervous.

She can almost  _feel_ Beca’s apathy coming off of her, and Chloe clings a little closer than necessary just so Beca won’t complain so much.

The air is thick with tension, and Chloe can sense that something is going to happen.

And then a (fake) blood-soaked figure leaps out in front of them with a sharp scream. Chloe jumps, but Beca…

Well, Beca screams herself and then clocks the person right in the face before dashing back out the door.

Chloe stares in horror as the person clutches their face and staggers to the ground. She knows that Beca has a mean left hook.

So much for keeping their hands to themselves.


	262. Chapter 262

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe based on A Daydream Away by All Time Low please

Chloe loves spending time with Beca.

She loves doing  _anything_ with Beca—even if it’s just channel-surfing in their pajamas eating ice cream. She’s pretty sure she’d be perfectly happy watching paint dry as long as Beca was by her side (and also listening to Beca complain about how boring it is).

It’s cliché, but it’s true. Chloe would do anything with Beca.

She especially loves nights like tonight: curled up in bed with a mug of tea, watching Beca work on a mix. 

Beca’s headphones keep her hair from falling into her face, giving Chloe an unobscured view of the way she licks her lips every so often or chews on her lip. Her eyebrows knit together in concentration as her hands fly across the keyboard.

Chloe realizes she must have been staring with a stupid grin on her face when Beca looks at her and asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” Chloe says, but she’s still smiling. 

“What are you staring at?” Beca says, eyeing her uncertainly.

“You,” Chloe answers simply.

Beca rolls her eyes. “Well, I gathered.”

“You’re beautiful,” Chloe tells her quietly, partially because it’s true—God, it’s  _so_ true—and partially because Beca blushing at her words is tirelessly adorable.

“Shut up,” Beca mumbles, which Chloe knows actually means  _thank you_.

For Beca’s sake, Chloe changes the subject. “What are you working on?”

“It’s a secret,” Beca says, inching the screen away from Chloe’s view. 

That only intrigues Chloe all the more. “A secret?” she says, sitting up more fully and setting her tea to the side. “What kind of secret?”

“You have a fundamental misunderstanding of the word ‘secret,’ dude,” Beca says, inching away.

“Is it a mix?” Chloe asks, seeing if she can at least get a hint.

“Uh huh,” Beca says, looking at her with amusement. She knows exactly what kind of game Chloe is playing.

“Is it a mix for a certain person?” Chloe presses, and Beca rolls her eyes.

“Perhaps.”

Chloe’s chest fills with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Beca’s made her several mixes over the course of their relationship, but it never fails to excite and amaze Chloe. She looks at Beca and is overwhelmed by the love that she feels. “Is that person me—”

“Chloe!”

Chloe jerks herself out of her daydream, blinking rapidly. Gone is the coy Beca perched at the end of her bed. Instead,  _this_  Beca—the Beca of cold, hard reality—is standing in front of her, holding up a shirt.

“I asked you like four times whether you liked this shirt,” Beca says, sounding annoyed.

“Um, sorry,” Chloe says quickly. “I zoned out. Tired,” she explains, all of her words lies.

“Whatever,” Beca says, turning around to toss the shirt onto her dresser. “I’m just gonna wear this. I wore these jeans yesterday but”—she shrugs—“Jesse didn’t see me yesterday, so it doesn’t matter.”

Jesse. The name sinks in Chloe’s stomach heavily. Beca’s boyfriend—the person she both bitterly resents and desperately wishes she could be.

“You okay?” Beca asks when Chloe doesn’t answer.

Chloe plasters a smile on her face. “Yep. Have fun with Jesse.”

Beca doesn’t question it further.

Her fantasy Beca is just a distant memory by the time Jesse shows up at the door. Chloe watches from the top of the stairs as he kisses her hello.

Chloe hurries back to her room and throws herself down on the bed, desperate to escape into her alternate reality.

This one hurts too much.


	263. Chapter 263

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you please do one where Chloe finds out she’s pregnant and tells Beca in a cute way?

Certain things are difficult when you’re married to someone who hates surprises. 

Chloe personally thinks that, deep down, Beca secretly likes the attention of a surprise, but Beca has vehemently insisted on  _several_ occasions that she doesn’t, so Chloe eventually gives up.

She’s fantasized about announcing her pregnancy to Beca by having all of the Bellas (well, all of the ones somewhat nearby and available) sing “(You’re) Having My Baby,” but that isn’t happening.

It’s actually kind of difficult to come up with a plan that Beca  _won’t_ complain about.

Chloe settles on a scavenger hunt around their apartment: Beca won’t be ambushed, and she won’t have to go outside or walk a long distance or climb any stairs.

It’s perfect.

Chloe busies herself all afternoon making cute little cards with clues—“Finding the first clue will be a treat! Look for it where you get something to eat.” (She sets the second clue on top of two cookies, because Beca will actually get pissy with her if she doesn’t leave some type of promised treat.)

She puts the final clue, her positive pregnancy test (inside of a plastic baggie inside of another plastic baggie inside of  _another_  plastic baggie, just to be safe) on their nightstand, on which she has tied two balloons: one pink and one blue. Then she sits down on the bed and waits for Beca to come home.

The door opens at its usual time and Chloe smiles to herself, picturing Beca reading the first card, brows knitted together in concentration.

But then a couple of minutes later the bedroom door opens— _totally_ off schedule—revealing Beca, stuffing a cookie into her mouth. In her other hand is the first card.

Chloe resists the urge to smack her head against the wall. She is married to the least cooperative person on this planet.

“Beca!” she exclaims. “You’re supposed to follow the directions on the cards.”

Beca looks from Chloe to the balloons and back again. “Are you pregnant?” she asks around a mouthful of cookie.

Chloe decides that her excitement outweighs her annoyance at her wife’s blatant disregard for her scavenger hunt.

“Yes!” she shouts, and Beca drops her cookie in the process of leaping forward to tackle-hug Chloe.

That’s how Chloe knows she’s done well.


	264. Chapter 264

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re neighbors and sometimes Chloe can hear Beca masturbating, so she confronts her about it one day or 'helps out' or something

Chloe’s neighbor plays music a lot.

All kinds of music—top 40, oldies, the Rolling Stones, late-90s Britney Spears, stuff that Chloe’s never even  _heard_ of.

But more than any other song, she plays “Titanium.”

It’s rather hard to ignore, since Chloe is pretty sure that their bedrooms align, and the music comes through loud and clear. It’s generally played late at night, and sometimes Chloe has to wear earplugs or turn on different music to drown it out. Because she… Well, she finds that song rather  _distracting_.

(And,  _okay_ , once or twice she she gets a little  _caught up_ in the swell of the music, the crescendo, but it’s her  _lady jam_. Sue her.)

Chloe thinks through all of the logical reasons as to why her neighbor would be playing “Titanium” so much, and she comes to one solution.

“You touch yourself an awful lot.”

It is, perhaps, not the way to start a conversation, but she’d kindly invited Beca—that’s her name—inside after finding herself locked out of her apartment, so Chloe feels like she has a little bit of conversational leeway.

Plus, the way that Beca’s eyes bug out and her face goes red is kind of adorable, the way she opens and closes her mouth with no sound coming out almost comical.

“Excuse me?” Beca finally chokes out. 

“You play ‘Titanium’ a  _lot_ ,” Chloe explains, but she tries to say it comfortingly. Beca doesn’t have to be embarrassed. It’s, like, a totally normal thing.

Beca gapes at her in confusion. “You’re completely lost me.”

“‘Titanium’ is my jam,” Chloe confides, winking at Beca. “My  _lady_ jam.”

Beca stares at her for a moment before realization dawns on her face. “So you think that I—” She covers her hands with her face. “ _Dude_. No.” She looks at Chloe again. “Really? To a  _song_?”

“That song really builds.” Chloe just shrugs. “Do you not?”

“No!” Beca nearly shouts, looking about ready to cover her ears and run screaming from Chloe’s apartment.

“So then  _why_  do you listen to it so much?” Chloe asks. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“ _If you don’t mind me asking_ ,” Beca imitates under her breath. “I mix music. You know, like mashups?”

Chloe nods. “Yeah! That’s super cool.”

“I’m trying to figure out what song would go with ‘Titanium,’” Beca says, looking slightly more relaxed now that the topic has shifted. “You know that feeling like when you’re trying to remember a word and it’s on the tip of your tongue but you just can’t remember it?” Chloe nods. “That’s how I feel with this song.”

“I could help, if you want,” Chloe offers.

Beca recoils. “Dude, gross!”

Chloe laughs. “Not for that reason. I just really like music.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “Then… okay, I guess.”

It isn’t the most enthusiastic agreement, but Chloe plugs her iPod into her crappy speakers and queues “Titanium.” They listen in silence for a bit before Chloe is struck with an idea. 

“ _But I would walk five hundred miles_  
And I would walk five hundred more  
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles  
To fall down at your door.”

The way that Beca’s eyes immediately light up makes Chloe smile, and Beca urges her to restart the song so they can work on it.

“That’s perfect!” Beca says excitedly; it’s the most Chloe’s seen her emote in the six months they’ve been neighbors. “As soon as my roommate shows up to let me into my apartment I’ll get my laptop and we’ll put it together.”

Chloe grins. “I think I’ve found a new lady jam.”

This time, Beca just rolls her eyes.


	265. Chapter 265

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe send their young daughter Emily to gymnastics class! Something happens.

Beca’s not a fan of sports, but she guesses she’s okay with signing Emily up for one.

But she’s  _not_ okay with putting her up in perhaps one of the most dangerous sports available. Seriously, she can think of thirteen different ways for Emily to injure herself as soon as they walk in the door.

Chloe is going to owe her  _big_ -time, and Beca tells her so.

“You’re going to owe me  _big_ -time,” she grumbles as they settle into plastic chairs in the waiting room, which is really just a space off to the side of the gym where parents can watch their children flirt with death.

“She’s going to be fine,” Chloe says dismissively. “They don’t let the kids do anything dangerous on their first day.”

“Oh, so they let them BASE jump next week, then? Very reassuring.”

“Shh,” Chloe shushes her as Emily’s group of kindergarteners.

Beca relaxes slightly as the teacher leads the kids in a series of simple warm-up and stretching exercises before leading them over to the beams. She tenses again, squeezing Chloe’s hand tightly. She thinks she sees Chloe roll her eyes.

“They’re just on the low beams,” Chloe whispers. When Beca looks at her in confusion, she adds, “They’re only gonna be nine inches off of the ground.

“Oh.” Beca settles back in her chair. 

Emily seems to be doing well; she’s smiling and waiting patiently in line for her turn—or, at least, she  _is_ until some little girl with blond hair in pigtails rudely pushes Emily out of the way and takes her place in line.

“Let her work it out,” Chloe reminds Beca, cognizant of the days when Beca would storm the preschool after reports of somebody stealing Emily’s snack or taking her marker without asking.

Beca can’t quite hear what Emily says, but she seems calm when she taps the little girl on the shoulder. But the girl shakes her head.

The next thing Beca knows, Emily’s socked the girl right in the face.

* * *

“You know she got this from you,” Chloe hisses on the car ride home. They’d been promptly whisked out of the gym; Beca’s pretty sure the other girl’s mom was about to punch  _them_.

“Me?” Beca says indignantly. “I punched someone  _one_ time.”

“Well, she didn’t get it from me,” Chloe retorts, and Beca glares at her.

“Let’s ask her,” Beca grits out. “Em, who taught you to hit people in the face?”

“Stevie,” Emily answers, like Beca had asked her her favorite color.

“Who’s Stevie?”

“A boy in my class,” Emily says. “He said that one time Joey cutted him in line and he punched ‘im. And then Joey never did it again.”

“Oh boy,” Beca mutters, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Honey? Never do anything Stevie tells you to again, okay?”

“But Stevie is the line leader,” Emily says. 

Beca closes her eyes. “Just… don’t hit anyone ever again. Deal?”

“But  _you_  did it,” Emily protests. 

Beca whips her head around. “Who told you that?”

“Mommy.”

At least Chloe has the good sense to look ashamed.

“You. Owe. Me,” Beca says to her through clenched teeth.


	266. Chapter 266

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacie is a movie major and begs Chloe and Beca to be part of her short movie. They agree and everything is going well. The movie is almost done until Stacie tells them that there is a big love scene at the end. Chloe finds it hilarious (and is secretly excited at the prospect of doing something like this with Beca) Beca is freaking out at as she has to deal with all the feelings she has been suppressing for years.

Beca doesn’t know why she agreed to this.

Wait, yes she does—she agreed to this because Chloe made her.

What she doesn’t know is why Stacie asked  _her_ , of all people, to do this.

Stacie doesn’t even seem like she knows what she’s  _doing_.

Beca doesn’t even like movies, but this one sounds terrible: Beca plays the ghost of Chloe’s former lover. It basically entails Beca just following Chloe around. (”It’s abstract, Beca.”)

Inexplicably, the whole thing is being filmed in the kitchen of the Bella house.

“Oh,” Stacie says casually after about two hours, “by the way, you guys are gonna have to kiss.”

Beca freezes.

One time, when Beca was eight, her cousin wanted to see if bug spray was  _really_ as flammable as it said on the can. She had had a really bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as she watched him try to strike a match.

She has that feeling now.

(She was right by the way—the can had exploded. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but he got in  _huge_ trouble.)

“Uh,” Beca says, rubbing the back of her head nervously, “how does that work? Aren’t I supposed to be a ghost?”

Stacie gives her a very pointed look. “It’s art, Beca.”

“It’s no biggie,” Chloe says, a tad overenthusiastic, like part of the emotion is forced. “Right, Bec?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Beca agrees reluctantly. 

“Okay, great!” Stacie says, holding up her camera. “Ready?”

“Wait,” Beca says, anxiety churning in her stomach. “Like, now?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stacie says. “Ready?”

Beca feels the gentle brush of Chloe’s hand against her own, skin impossibly soft, and she looks at her.

“It’s just me, Bec,” Chloe whispers, the look in her eyes unreadable. 

Beca nods. “Okay.”

“Action!” Stacie calls.

Beca hesitates. Chloe is a star: beautiful and bright and coveted by many. But if she gets too close, Beca’s sure she’ll be burned.

Chloe, evidently, does not have the same reservations; she drops Beca’s hand in favor of gently grabbing Beca’s head, pressing their lips together.

It isn’t quite how Beca has imagined it (late at night when she has no one to pretend for but herself): Chloe’s touch is barely there, like she’s afraid sudden movements will scare Beca away. Instead of butterflies, Beca just feels hot all over, and her heart feels like it’s going to pound out of her chest.

It makes her want more.

Bolder, Beca tangles her fingers in Chloe’s hair, moving closer and more purposefully.

She doesn’t know exactly what she’s feeling, but she knows she doesn’t want to stop feeling it.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Cynthia Rose asks, stopping in her tracks as she enters the kitchen.

“Shh,” Stacie hisses. “We’re making a film.”

“What? Why are you making a film?” Cynthia Rose whispers. “You’re a physics major.”

“Shh,” Stacie repeats, but this time she winks.


	267. Chapter 267

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe at a party. Chloe pushes Beca against a wall and kisses her. In the morning Chloe doesn’t remember and thinks they just fell asleep in the same bed as usual.

Beca has had a very weird night.

It started fairly normally—it was the Trebles’ monthly full-moon party. (Apparently Stacie and Benji are really into the moon and feel the need to celebrate its full visibility. Beca doesn’t question it as long as she doesn’t have to buy the alcohol.)

Chloe was being all touchy-feely, draping herself across Beca’s lap and unnecessarily touching her arms and face and hair. It’s annoying. Well, it’s not annoying-annoying. Beca just pretends it’s annoying-annoying because Chloe is the sun and Beca’s attitude is her sunscreen. 

But tonight, Beca got burned.

Beca was leaving the bathroom, and Chloe came out of nowhere, pressed her against the wall, and kissed her.

Beca didn’t do anything differently, hadn’t forgotten to apply her sunscreen. Maybe the Earth’s rotation on its axis combined with its rotation around the sun at that given moment had—

She needs to spend less time with Stacie.

Chloe had been drunk off her ass, of course, and barely managed to make it to Beca’s room before promptly falling asleep in her bed.

For lack of anything else to do, Beca crawled in beside her and wondered if she’ll be the first person to touch the sun.

It’s not often that Beca wakes up before Chloe, but when she does, it means Chloe has one hell of a hangover.

Seriously, it’s almost noon. And the suspense (will Chloe remember? how will she react?) is killing Beca.

Finally, Chloe peeks one eye open and says, “Hi.”

Beca jumps. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Chloe croaks, turning onto her back and rubbing her eyes.

Beca just stares.

“What?” Chloe asks, blinking up at her.

“Nothing,” Beca says, but she doesn’t move.

“You’re acting weird,” Chloe says, frowning. “Why?”

She doesn’t remember. 

Beca is definitely feeling the burn.

“Beca,” Chloe says, sitting up. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Beca repeats. She turns away from Chloe, putting her feet on the floor. “It’s nothing.”

“Did I… do or say something last night to piss you off?” Chloe asks tentatively. “If I did, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s nothing,” Beca insists. “You don’t feel the same way. It’s fine.” She runs a hand through her hair and tries to get her shit together.

“I don’t… feel the same way?” Chloe says, and Beca freezes. Did I say that? “Beca, what do you mean?”

“It’s—”

“And don’t tell me it’s nothing,” Chloe interrupts. 

“You kissed me,” Beca admits quietly. Part of her is glad that she’s turned away from Chloe, but part of her wants to watch her face.

“Oh,” Chloe says. “And, uh… how did that make you feel?”

Beca turns around and looks at Chloe incredulously. “What are you, my therapist?”

Chloe cracks a tiny smile at that. “Sorry. But you said that I ‘don’t feel the same way.’ What does that mean?”

Chloe’s proximity starts to heat Beca’s skin. “I don’t know.” It’s a cop-out and they both know it.

Dropping her head for a moment, Chloe sighs a little exasperatedly. “Do you want me to do it again?”

Beca almost jumps back in surprise at the words. She can’t seem to get her brain and her tongue to work in tandem for a moment, but she finally ekes out, “Do you?”

There’s a beat of silence; Beca is sure she’s somehow said the wrong thing despite only repeating Chloe’s question.

But then there are hands gently cupping her face and soft lips feather-light against her own, pressing more firmly as Beca relaxes.

It turns out that Chloe isn’t the sun. Chloe is light; she is warmth. 

Beca was just so afraid of getting burned that she didn’t realize.


	268. Chapter 268

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe get drunk in Vegas and get married. Except for the fact that they were so drunk that they don't remember getting married until Beca finds the marriage certificate at the bottom of her luggage six months later back at Barden + Cynthia Rose is getting married and holds her bachelorette party in Vegas and Bechloe (in a drunken stupor) gets hitched at one of those drive thru churches

“Hey, Chloe?”

Chloe pads down the hall towards Beca’s bedroom and pokes her head inside. “Yeah?”

“Did we, at any point, ever get married?” Beca’s voice is strained, like she’s trying really hard to keep a lid on some intense emotion. She’s staring down at a piece of paper in her hands.

“Uh.” Chloe frowns, confused. “No?”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Beca, what are you talking about?” Chloe enters the room and peers over Beca’s shoulder. 

_Certificate of Marriage…_

“Oh no,” Chloe says lowly, covering her mouth. Bits of memories are coming back to her, the clearest of which is kissing Beca underneath a cheap-looking wedding arch dotted with white flowers.

“Oh no?” Beca repeats, her voice shrill. “What do you mean, ‘oh no’?”

“Fuck,” Chloe mutters, sitting down on the edge of the bed and cradling her head in her hands. This is really, really bad.

“Chloe!” Beca nearly shouts. “What did we do?”

“Remember how trashed we all got after Cynthia Rose’s bachelorette party?” Chloe says carefully, because Beca looks like she’s going to explode. “We, ah, we thought it would be fun to do one of those drive-thru weddings.”

Beca stares at her for a moment. “And you didn’t think to  _tell me this_?”

“I swear I didn’t remember until just now!” Chloe says, holding up her hands. 

Beca lets the paper fall to the floor in favor of clenching both hands in her hair. “What do we do? How do we undo this?”

A pang of hurt strikes in Chloe’s chest. “Undo this?”

“Well, yeah,” Beca says, her voice still still high-pitched. “Do we get divorced? Can we nullify this?”

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. “You’re awfully quick to get rid of me,” Chloe grumbles irritably. “Are you really that repulsed by the idea of being married to me?”

“It’s not like that,” Beca says, but she isn’t making eye contact with Chloe. 

“Well, that’s how it sounds.” Chloe crosses her arms and looks away.

“I just— _ugh._ ” Beca lets her hands fall to her sides. “I don’t want it like this.”

“Don’t want what? Want me?” Chloe accuses, even though  _duh_ , they’re not together. She’s not sure why this is bothering her so much; maybe a small part of her had hoped that Beca wouldn’t be upset. 

“Chloe, I don’t—I’m not—I don’t mean it that way!” Beca says, holding her hands out. “This just isn’t how…” She trails off, and for some reason it pisses Chloe off.

“Isn’t how what, Beca?” Chloe demands.

“This isn’t how I pictured our wedding!” Beca finally shouts.

Chloe reels back. That is  _not_ what she expected. She feels heavy and light all at once, Beca’s words scrambling her feelings and making it hard to think.

The confession hangs between them for several seconds. Beca stares at her feet, breathing heavily.

“Oh,” Chloe finally says. “I’ll, uh, look into getting it nullified.”

Beca’s eyes snap to meet Chloe’s. “Do you mean…?”

Chloe stands, picking the certificate up from the floor. She can’t help but crack a little smile when she says, “If you wanted to marry me properly, you could have just asked.”

“Shut up,” Beca says, but she’s smiling, too.

They’ve always been a bit unconventional, and now they’ve gone from (questionable) friends to married to… tentatively engaged?

It isn’t surprising, really.


	269. Chapter 269

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fat Amy and Stacie are arguing about Beca and Chloe’s ship name so they ask Beca and Chloe what they think and Beca and Chloe start arguing about it.

“It’s Bloe.”

“It’s definitely  _not_ Bloe.”

“I thought you’d be all for Bloes, Vivian Ward.”

Stacie’s mouth drops open. “I find that offensive.”

“Okay, my bad,” Amy says, holding up a hand. “But it’s not Blahooey or whatever it was that you said.”

“It’s  _Bechloe_ ,” Stacie repeats. “It’s cute.”

Amy shakes her head as she rips open a package of Oreos. “It sounds like the name of this Aboriginal kid I knew in high school.” She finally manages to free the cookies. “Bloe is better.”

“Whoa, okay,” Beca says, entering the kitchen, Chloe close on her heels. “Amy, I don’t need to know what you did with Bumper last night.”

“Exactly!” Stacie says.

“What are you two arguing about?” Chloe asks, leaning against the wall as Beca raids the fridge for a soda. It doesn’t appear that she came into the kitchen for any reason other than because  _Beca_ came in— _typical_ , Stacie thinks.

“Please tell Amy that Bechloe is  _so_ much better than Bloe,” Stacie says, gesturing to Amy.

“That… what?” Chloe blinks at them in confusion. 

“Beca and Chloe makes Bloe,” Amy insists around a mouthful of Oreo.

“No, it’s Bechloe,” Stacie argues back.

Chloe wrinkles her nose. “I don’t like the sound of Bloe.”

“Really?” Beca chimes in, popping the tab on a can of Sprite. “I think it’s funny.”

“Yes!” Amy cheers. “Team Bloe!”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Beca says, eyes narrowing. “‘Bechloe’ sounds stupid.”

“Well, it sounds better than Bloe,” Chloe counters.

“Fight me, Beale,” Beca shoots back, putting down her soda.

“You’re five-two Beca,” Chloe says. “That can’t be your solution to everything.”

“Figh—fuck off,” Beca mutters. “Bechloe is still a dumb name.”

Amy inches around the counter and leans over to whisper in Stacie’s ear: “Why are they fighting about this when they’re not even together?”

Stacie was wondering the same thing.


	270. Chapter 270

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca doesn’t fall for the puppy dog eyes or the pout anymore so Chloe has to find another way to make her do things.

Beca is onto Chloe.

It’s taken her about five years, but she’s absolutely  _not_ going to fall for that pouty, big-eyed, eyelash-batting  _thing_ that Chloe does whenever she wants something. 

It’s not going to work anymore.

“Bec, babe,” Chloe calls from the bedroom—which is the first sign that she wants something, because she only uses that cutesy, I’m-so-helpless tone when she wants something.

Beca sighs and figures she’ll go and see what Chloe wants. She puts down her laptop, pads down the hallway, and pokes her head in the bedroom.

Chloe is curled up in bed, still in her pajamas, bleary-eyed from sleep. It’d be cute if it weren’t 4 pm on a Tuesday.

(Fuck, it’s cute anyway.)

“Yes?” Beca says.

“Can you make me a sandwich?”

There it is.

“No,” Beca says firmly, waving a hand at Chloe. 

“Please?” Chloe tries, and Beca tries not to look her in the eyes. She’s like some kind of nagging Medusa—if Beca makes eye contact, she gives in to whatever Chloe wants.

“Fuck no,” Beca repeats. “I’m working and you haven’t even set a foot on the floor since last night.”

“That’s not true,” Chloe denies. “I got up to pee.”

“Not the point.”

“What is the point?” Chloe asks.

That’s her second tactic: distraction.

“I’m not making you a sandwich!” Beca insists.

“Come on,” Chloe says, blinking up at Beca with her big, blue eyes—

“No,” Beca says, shaking her head. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Falling for what?” Chloe asks innocently.

“Your puppy-dog look.” Beca points to her face. “The one that you make when you want something.” She shakes her head for emphasis. 

“Is there some other way I could persuade you?” Chloe bats her eyelashes.

“No,” Beca says again.  _Just keep repeating it, Mitchell_.

“Are you sure?” Chloe sits up, stretches, and starts taking off her shirt.

_Fuck_. She’s not wearing a bra.

“Chloe,” Beca says, a little panicked, “what are you doing?”

“I’m hot,” Chloe says casually. She picks up the sheet to cover herself, but just barely. She pulls the elastic out of her hair and shakes her curls loose over her shoulders. 

“Sure,” Beca mutters sarcastically. 

Chloe climbs out of bed and starts taking off her pants, too. She looks coyly over her shoulder, smirking when she sees Beca’s face redden rapidly. “I was gonna take a shower. You okay there, Bec?” she says. “You’re looking a little red.”

“I’m fine,” Beca grits out, pointedly looking at the ceiling. It’s not like she hasn’t seen Chloe naked before—she has, many times in many circumstances. It’s the principle.

That, and Chloe is really, really hot.

“You sure?” Chloe crosses the room and presses a hand to Beca’s forehead, her chest right in Beca’s eyeline. “You feel warm.”

“Stop it,” Beca says shortly. She doesn’t know how much longer she can resist the boob shoved blatantly in her face.

“Stop what?” 

“You know what.”

Chloe leans in and starts kissing Beca’s neck.  _Dammit_ , Beca thinks. That’s her weak spot. 

“Do you want to come shower with me?” Chloe asks when Beca’s hands instinctively find her waist.

“Yes,” Beca breathes out before she can reconsider her words.

“Great!” Chloe says brightly, stepping away and sauntering towards the shower. Beca feels cold at the sudden loss of contact, and when she blinks her eyes open, Chloe is leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom. “And Bec?”

“Yeah?”

“Only if you make me a sandwich first.” Chloe winks, then disappears into the bathroom.

“Fuck,” Beca murmurs to herself.

She  _has_ to figure out a way to say no to Chloe.


	271. Chapter 271

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca doesn’t fall for the puppy dog eyes or the pout anymore so Chloe has to find another way to make her do things.

Beca is onto Chloe.

It’s taken her about five years, but she’s absolutely  _not_ going to fall for that pouty, big-eyed, eyelash-batting  _thing_ that Chloe does whenever she wants something. 

It’s not going to work anymore.

“Bec, babe,” Chloe calls from the bedroom—which is the first sign that she wants something, because she only uses that cutesy, I’m-so-helpless tone when she wants something.

Beca sighs and figures she’ll go and see what Chloe wants. She puts down her laptop, pads down the hallway, and pokes her head in the bedroom.

Chloe is curled up in bed, still in her pajamas, bleary-eyed from sleep. It’d be cute if it weren’t 4 pm on a Tuesday.

(Fuck, it’s cute anyway.)

“Yes?” Beca says.

“Can you make me a sandwich?”

There it is.

“No,” Beca says firmly, waving a hand at Chloe. 

“Please?” Chloe tries, and Beca tries not to look her in the eyes. She’s like some kind of nagging Medusa—if Beca makes eye contact, she gives in to whatever Chloe wants.

“Fuck no,” Beca repeats. “I’m working and you haven’t even set a foot on the floor since last night.”

“That’s not true,” Chloe denies. “I got up to pee.”

“Not the point.”

“What is the point?” Chloe asks.

That’s her second tactic: distraction.

“I’m not making you a sandwich!” Beca insists.

“Come on,” Chloe says, blinking up at Beca with her big, blue eyes—

“No,” Beca says, shaking her head. “I’m not falling for that.”

“Falling for what?” Chloe asks innocently.

“Your puppy-dog look.” Beca points to her face. “The one that you make when you want something.” She shakes her head for emphasis. 

“Is there some other way I could persuade you?” Chloe bats her eyelashes.

“No,” Beca says again.  _Just keep repeating it, Mitchell_.

“Are you sure?” Chloe sits up, stretches, and starts taking off her shirt.

 _Fuck_. She’s not wearing a bra.

“Chloe,” Beca says, a little panicked, “what are you doing?”

“I’m hot,” Chloe says casually. She picks up the sheet to cover herself, but just barely. She pulls the elastic out of her hair and shakes her curls loose over her shoulders. 

“Sure,” Beca mutters sarcastically. 

Chloe climbs out of bed and starts taking off her pants, too. She looks coyly over her shoulder, smirking when she sees Beca’s face redden rapidly. “I was gonna take a shower. You okay there, Bec?” she says. “You’re looking a little red.”

“I’m fine,” Beca grits out, pointedly looking at the ceiling. It’s not like she hasn’t seen Chloe naked before—she has, many times in many circumstances. It’s the principle.

That, and Chloe is really, really hot.

“You sure?” Chloe crosses the room and presses a hand to Beca’s forehead, her chest right in Beca’s eyeline. “You feel warm.”

“Stop it,” Beca says shortly. She doesn’t know how much longer she can resist the boob shoved blatantly in her face.

“Stop what?” 

“You know what.”

Chloe leans in and starts kissing Beca’s neck.  _Dammit_ , Beca thinks. That’s her weak spot. 

“Do you want to come shower with me?” Chloe asks when Beca’s hands instinctively find her waist.

“Yes,” Beca breathes out before she can reconsider her words.

“Great!” Chloe says brightly, stepping away and sauntering towards the shower. Beca feels cold at the sudden loss of contact, and when she blinks her eyes open, Chloe is leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom. “And Bec?”

“Yeah?”

“Only if you make me a sandwich first.” Chloe winks, then disappears into the bathroom.

“Fuck,” Beca murmurs to herself.

She  _has_ to figure out a way to say no to Chloe.


	272. Chapter 272

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you think maybe you could write about Beca and Chloe's first trip to the beach, from Chloe's POV? She gets specially excited and/or mesmerized seeing Beca in an unexpected sexy bikini.

Chloe doesn’t get flustered easily.

Actually, she doesn’t get flustered  _ever_. 

She kept her shit together when Beca sang her  _lady jam_ ,  _naked_ , in a shower—so why can’t she keep her shit together now?

“Chloe?”

“Mm?”

“You’re staring.”

Chloe shakes her head and lifts her gaze to a more respectable place, muttering, “Sorry.” She can feel her cheeks heat, and she doesn’t think it’s from the sun.

She’s literally  _seen Beca naked_. But for some reason, the sight of Beca in a red bikini is… _doing things_  to her. The top frames Beca’s breasts perfectly, pushing them up enough to be noticeable but not  _too_  much. The bottom hugs Beca’s hips, showing off her surprisingly toned stomach. (Beca does spend an awful lot of time lying on the couch.) The light reflects off of Beca’s pale skin, giving her an ethereal glow.

She looks like an angel.

It makes Chloe’s mouth dry and her head spin.

“Hey!” Beca calls, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Earth to Beale?”

“Sorry,” Chloe repeats, realizing she’d been letting her eyes wander again.

“What’s with you?” Beca asks, putting a hand on her hip. “You keep staring at my boobs. Like, more than normal.”

“I…” Chloe can’t in good conscience deny that. “I can’t help it that you look like you stepped out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog, okay?” Chloe plays it off with a flirtatious wink. “Although I think the bathing suit would look better on my floor.”

Beca freezes, her mouth opening and closing before a red blush starts to creep up her chest.

Chloe smiles to herself. She nearly forgot: no matter how much she might get flustered, Beca becomes so at not much more than a comment and a wink.

Her psych professor might call it deflecting, but Chloe calls it fun.

(She’ll see if she survives seeing a dripping wet Beca Mitchell, though.)


	273. Chapter 273

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca has a bad week at her internship and wants to cuddle with Chloe.

The knock on Chloe’s door is so quiet that she almost thinks she imagined it.

But then the door cracks open, revealing Beca—still in her internship clothes, barefooted, and looking a little bit upset.

“Hey,” Chloe says, putting down the Zhukovsky book she’d been more or less staring at for the last hour. “You okay?”

Beca shuffles into the room and sits on the end of Chloe’s bed, letting out a big sigh. “Yeah.”

“Are… you sure?” Chloe asks, because, to be honest, Beca doesn’t look great—her eyes are a little red like she’d been crying, and she either hasn’t noticed or doesn’t care about the coffee stain on her shirt.

“My boss hates me and won’t call me by the right name and doesn’t like my mashups and all I’ve done all week is get burritos and today I spilled coffee on T-Pain,” Beca says in a rush, like she’s been piling grievances all week. (And, knowing Beca, she probably has.) “And my shoes gave me blisters,” she adds as an afterthought.

For someone whose facial expressions don’t really change all that much, Beca is rather dramatic.

“That sucks,” Chloe says, making what she hopes is a sympathetic face. “Do you want me to kiss your feet and make them better?”

“No,” Beca says, “that’s weird.” She looks down at her feet and then back at Chloe. “You know how I am about feet.”

Chloe bites her lip to keep from smiling. She does know; that’s why she asked. “Do you want to, like, talk?”

Beca shakes her head. But she just keeps  _looking_ at Chloe like she wants something but is waiting for Chloe to figure it out so Beca doesn’t have to say it.

It’s a game they play a lot, actually.

“Do you want me to make you tea?”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay.” Chloe shrugs and moves to pick her book back up.

Beca makes a huffing noise and climbs up the bed to settle down beside Chloe, as close as she can be without actually touching her.

Chloe almost starts laughing; this is usually the part where Chloe wraps her arms around Beca. And then Beca complains, but doesn’t pull away. 

But Chloe just pretends to read her book and decides to let Beca speak first.

“You know,” Beca says slowly after a couple of minutes, “if you wanted to, like, hug me or whatever, that’s okay.” A pause. “Because I know you’re into that shit.”

Chloe turns to look at her. “Beca Mitchell, are you asking me to cuddle with you?”

“No,” Beca says quickly, but her cheeks tint red and Chloe knows that she means  _yes_.

But nevertheless Chloe puts her book down and snuggles into Beca’s side, tucking her head in the space between Beca’s head and shoulder and tangling their legs together. Chloe feels Beca relax against her, and notes that Beca smells suspiciously like Chloe’s favorite perfume.

“Well, too bad,” Chloe says, closing her eyes, “because I am into that shit.”


	274. Chapter 274

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Chloe and Beca have twins (both girls) who are both 16. They realize they need to give them the sex talk, so they talk to them separately. Chloe decides she'll talk to the one and Beca will talk to the one because their personalities are similar. They're both super sweet and cool about it.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“ _Yes_.”

“Noooo,” Beca whines. “Chloe, I can’t talk about sex with”—she drops her voice—“ _the children_.”

“They’re sixteen, Bec. Someone has to,” Chloe says, crossing her arms, “and it’s not going to be the public schools.”

Beca pinches the bridge of her nose. “Can we not have this talk again?”

“It’s true!” 

“I know,” Beca says. “You made that  _very_  clear when you ranted to me about it for two hours two weeks ago.”

“Well, you can listen to it  _again_ or you can go tell Harmony how to use a condom,” Chloe tells her, pointing to the stairs. “Male  _and_ female.”

Beca’s groan can be heard all the way down the hallway and up the stairs.

Chloe sighs and goes off in search of Melody. She finds her in the living room, watching television. “Mel?”

Melody looks up. “What?”

“We need to have a talk,” Chloe says, sitting down on the couch.

“About what?” Melody asks, still watching the TV.  _Beca’s child_ , Chloe thinks.

“Sex.”

 _Now_ Melody looks at her. “Mom,  _ew_.”

“Do you know how babies are made?” Chloe asks, trying to get to the point.

“Yes,” Melody mutters, sinking down in her seat.

“So you know that the penis goes in the va—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Melody interrupts. 

“Okay, great!” Chloe says brightly. “So you only risk pregnancy if you’re having sex with a man, but you can get STDs from anybody, so it’s important to use protection no matter  _who_ you’re having sex with.”

Melody just stares at the floor; Chloe recognizes her expression as the I-want-to-die look Beca always gets whenever Chloe tries to talk about sex stuff with her.

“And—”

“Chloe.”

Chloe looks up to see Beca in the doorway, looking thoroughly freaked out.

“Hang on,” Chloe tells Melody, and follows Beca into the kitchen. “Beca, what’s wrong?”

“Our  _child_ knows more about sex than me,” Beca whispers, eyes wide and frightened.

“What?”

“Did you know that the female body has a sex organ that’s specifically for pleasure?” Beca asks.

“Yes,” Chloe says, “it’s the clitoris.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Beca ays defensively. “You’re going to have to talk to her, because she’s making me look stupid.”

Chloe hides a smile behind her hand.  _That’s my girl_ , she thinks.


	275. Chapter 275

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please do one where Beca is a cop and pulls Chloe over for speeding or something but in the end she doesn't give her a ticket because, well because she's Chloe Beale.

Beca doesn’t like to people over.

It has nothing to do with sympathy—she just doesn’t like talking to people. Or doing paperwork.

Perhaps she’s in the wrong profession.

But this person is going nearly twenty miles per hour over the limit, so Beca begrudgingly turns on her lights and pulls the car over.

Beca taps on the window of the red VW bug ( _People still drive these things?_ Beca thinks), and waits for the driver to roll down the window.

The person inside is possibly the prettiest girl Beca’s ever seen.

Beca stares for a good three seconds before she remembers what she was doing. “Hey—uh, hello. License and registration, please.”

The girl smiles at Beca before handing them over.  _Chloe Beale_ , Beca reads. “Ms.  Beale, do you know how fast you were going?”

“I know I was going a little fast,” Chloe says, biting her lip. “I’m just running late to something.”

“You were going nearly twenty milers per hour over the speed limit,” Beca informs her. She also notices that Chloe’s eyes are clearer and bluer than Beca’s ever seen before.

“I’m so sorry,” Chloe says, blinking up at Beca. She bites down on her lip, and Beca can’t help but zero in on the motion. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

Beca pauses as she’s reaching for her pen. Normally, she wouldn’t hesitate to issue a citation, but something—maybe Chloe’s eyes, or her hair, or general warm vibe that surrounds her—makes her decide not to.

“Okay,” Beca says, “I’ll let you go. Just be more careful, okay?”

“Thank you,” Chloe breathes out. “I really appreciate it.”

Beca nods, feeling like Chloe could suggest that Beca help her find a body and Beca would probably say yes.

“Have a good day,” Beca says instead.

“You too,” Chloe returns brightly. “And by the way, you’re definitely the cutest cop ever.” 

Then she winks and rolls up her window, leaving Beca flustered and flushed red on the side of the highway.


	276. Chapter 276

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Emily is about to get it on with a guy and she goes into Beca's room to ask her for a condom?

Beca is big into courtesy.

Well, she’s into courtesy when it conveniences  _her_ —she doesn’t go out of her way to hold doors for people or shit like that. She’s too busy.

It’s a universal rule: If someone’s door is closed, you knock.

Emily doesn’t knock. Like Chloe, or Stacie or… anyone else in the house, actually.

Beca’s really got to get a sign.

“Jesus Christ,” Beca breathes out when Emily bursts into the room. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Emily says, and Beca notices that her hair is a little disheveled and her shirt is on backwards. Her cheeks are tinged pink and she seems a little out of breath.

“Did you get into a fight or something?” Beca asks, eyeing Emily.

“No,” Emily says. “I’m… with Benji. Do you have a condom?”

Beca blinks.  _That_ is not what she expected. “You’re a child,” she says. Logically, she knows that Emily is at least eighteen, but she seems much younger. In the few months that she’s been here, Beca has come to think of her as more of a kid sister than a classmate or teammate.

“I am not,” Emily huffs. “Do you have a condom or not?”

Beca raises her eyebrows. “Impatient, are we?”

“ _Beca,_ ” Emily whines. 

“Okay, okay.” Beca opens the drawer of her nightstand and paws through it. “Why not ask Stacie?”

Emily makes a face. “She didn’t have any normal ones. They were all flavored or  _textured_ or—”

“Found one!” Beca frisbees the condom in Emily’s direction.

“ _Thank_ you,” Emily says, turning to hurry out of the room.

“Wrap it before you tap it!” Beca calls after her, feeling strangely like she’s abetted in a nine-year-old getting laid. 

She stares off into space for a moment before picking her laptop back up, but it’s difficult to concentrate knowing that Emily and Benji are copulating down the hall. It’s strange how the two most awkward people Beca’s ever met have found each other. Beca wonders what their bedroom dynamic is like—

Beca shudders and shakes her head. That is something that she definitely does  _not_ want in her head.


	277. Chapter 277

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering if you could do one where one day in the middle of the night Chloe comes into Beca's room and asks if she can sleep with her for the rest of the night and beca lets her and at sometime one of Chloe's sleeves get pushed up and beca sees that Chloe self harms?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of self-harm, depression.

Beca is a slob.

More specifically, Beca is a slob who leaves her  _crap_ all over the floor for Chloe to trip over.

It’s a good thing that Amy is a heavy sleeper, because Chloe isn’t exactly quiet when she stumbles over one of Beca’s shoes and nearly falls flat on her face.

“Chlo?”

Chloe can’t help but smile to herself at the fact that Beca thinks of her before, say, a burglar when she hears a  _thud_ at three in the morning.

It could also be Chloe’s obnoxiously bright pajama pants.

“Hey,” Chloe whispers, crawling up Beca’s bed, hovering over her. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Wordlessly, Beca shifts over to make space for Chloe to crawl under the covers. 

The bed is warm, and Beca looks almost angelic illuminated by the moonlight streaming in the window behind her. Instinctively, Chloe reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Beca’s face.

Suddenly, Beca’s hand shoots up and grabs Chloe’s wrist; Chloe looks at her, confused, and sees that Beca’s eyes are focused on the inside of Chloe’s arm, exposed by her rolled-up sleeve.

Her world stops.

Chloe knows exactly what Beca is staring at: the silvery-white scars that line her arms like tally-marks drawn on the inside of prison cells counting down the days of an inmate’s incarceration—counting down, perhaps, her worst days inside the prison of her own skin.

She waits for Beca to be repulsed, to run away, to look at her like a freak. She braces for it.

But Beca just gently brushes her fingertips over the scars, tracing them gently, memorizing their uniform pattern, before letting go of Chloe’s arm and turning to look at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Beca whispers, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Why would you feel…?” She trails off, unsure how to finish the question.

Chloe blinks in surprise, and finds Beca’s hand underneath the blanket, just to make sure she’s still there. “I…” She pauses. “It’s not so much that I felt ugly,” she says quietly, staring up at the ceiling but keeping her hand in Beca’s. “I didn’t feel anything at all. I  _couldn’t_ feel anything. Do you know what that’s like?” She turns her head to look at Beca again.

Beca shakes her head. “Tell me?”

“It’s like… You feel numb. You feel heavy. Like you’re underwater. And if you open your mouth to ask for help, more water just gets in,” Chloe explains. “And the cutting it’s—it’s how I tried to wake myself up.”

“Did it work?” Beca asks quietly.

“No,” Chloe says, looking back up at the ceiling. “I still felt numb, but at least I could  _see_ that I had done something. And maybe… Maybe part of me hoped that someone else would notice.”

It feels strange to say it out loud, to put words to this  _thing_ that Chloe has spent so much time trying to forget about. It feels strange to have someone  _want_ to know about that part of her.

“Do you still feel that way?” Beca asks. 

“Sometimes,” Chloe admits. “Not often. But sometimes.”

“And do you still…?”

“No,” Chloe answers, finding Beca’s eyes again. “No, not in a long time.”

“What changed?” Beca mirrors Chloe’s earlier actions, tucking a lock of red hair behind Chloe’s ear.

“You,” Chloe whispers, and Beca’s eyebrows shoot up. “The Bellas.” She feels impossibly corny as she says, “I get my high from a cappella.”

Beca’s lips curve into a smile. “Nerd.”

Chloe shrugs with a little laugh.

“You know I love you, right?” Beca says, her face serious again. “And you can, like, talk to me and shit.”

“I know,” Chloe says with a smile. “I love you, too.”

Beca squirms a little; this is where she’d normally make some sort of joke or sarcastic comment, but Chloe can see she’s trying to resist. 

“And if you ever feel… like that,” Beca says, “just tell me? I’ll try to help.”

Chloe briefly brushes her hand over Beca’s cheek. “You do plenty already.”  _I feel more with you than I ever have in my life_ , she adds silently. “Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” Beca stares at her.

“What?” Chloe asks in confusion.

“Turn over,” Beca says, averting her eyes as she says it.

Chloe arches an eyebrow. “Are you trying to spoon me?”

“Don’t make me regret being a nice person.” Even in the dim light, Chloe can see Beca blush.

Chloe chuckles and turns over and feels her heart flutter a little when Beca’s arms slide around her middle, her knees tucking in the space behind Chloe’s.

“You know,” Chloe says, “you could have just asked.”

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”


	278. Chapter 278

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey can you do a story based on Anna's Lip Sync Battle (the Booty one)? Like maybe Chloe watched Beca do it and she was surprised beca could dance like that.

Chloe must be hallucinating.

That, or she hit her head during rehearsals and this is all some concussion-induced dream. Or maybe she somehow ingested some sort of drug.

It  _must_ be one of those things, because she did  _not_ just see Beca Mitchell drop it like it’s hot  _in public_.

It had been the Trebles’ idea—a friendly lip-sync battle between members of the a cappella groups on campus. Which somehow led to Beca shaking her ass to J Lo’s “Booty” on a makeshift stage, backed up by Stacie and Flo. Wearing a  _very_ low-cut shirt.

Beca, the laziest person on planet Earth, apparently doesn’t half-ass anything when she plays to win.

Chloe didn’t even know Beca could  _move_ like that.

By the time it’s over Chloe is  _hot_ , all over, and all the air in the world couldn’t slow her breathing.

She feels like she needs a cold shower. For an hour. Or two. She can’t stop picturing Beca doing that number sans clothing, dropping it low right over Chloe’s—

“What did you think?”

Chloe jumps and whirls around to see Beca, and she puts on her best I-totally-wasn’t-just-having-inappropriate-thoughts-about-you face.

(She uses it a lot, actually.)

“Uhh.” 

Words, though, Chloe hasn’t yet figured out.

“Are you okay?” Beca asks, and up close Chloe can see her forehead and chest are glistening with sweat.

“Ummm.”

“Earth to Beale,” Beca calls, playfully waving her hand in front of Chloe’s face.

“I think you broke her,” Amy says in a stage-whisper.

“Hi. Yes. I’m fine,” Chloe finally gets out. 

Beca raises her eyebrows. “You sure?” 

“Yeah,” Chloe says, nodding. “I’m great.”

“Okay,” Beca says in a tone that Chloe can only describe as suspicious. “What did you think?”

“Uh.” Chloe swallows. “It was great. Great teamwork.”

“You think we should choreograph a number for the Bellas?” Flo asks.

“Nah,” Amy says, “ginger wouldn’t survive it.”

Chloe shoots a look in her direction. “Sure,” she says brightly. “We’ll discuss it at rehearsal.” She forces a smile.

Beca gives her kind of a strange look, but she turns and heads over to Jesse, who is calling her over.

“Why don’t you get a t-shirt that says ‘I want to fuck Beca Mitchell’?” Amy says as she walks by. “It’d be a lot less obvious.”

Chloe’s mouth falls open. “I do  _not_ —”

“Oh, honey.” Stacie pats her on the arm. “Do you want me to get you some ice?”

Chloe squeaks indignantly and not-so-playfully shoves Stacie away. “I don’t!” she yells over her shoulder as she heads into the Trebles house.

She needs to splash some cold water on her face.


	279. Chapter 279

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca gets bored at rehearsal and starts singing Titanium while Chloe is trying to talk to the Bellas.

For somebody who looks like the lovechild of an angel and a puppy, Chloe is awfully sneaky.

Chloe thinks it’s funny to share  _personal information_  about the things that she and Beca do in their _free time_. Beca doesn’t appreciate this.

So she’s been waiting for her opportunity to get Chloe back.

It comes during rehearsal.

Chloe is addressing the Bellas, talking about something while drawing vigorously on the whiteboard. (About what, Beca isn’t sure. She clocked out about eight minutes ago.)

Beca waits until every eye is on Chloe before she starts singing, so quietly that only Chloe can hear:

“ _You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say_.”

Chloe stiffens, whipping her head around to glare at Beca before continuing her speech about the importance of a proper vocal warm-up. Or something.

“ _I’m talking loud, not saying much_.”

Chloe tenses, and stumbles over her words.

“ _You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet_.”

“Beca,” Chloe says tightly, “stop.” Her face and neck are tinted red, and Beca thinks she’s breathing heavier than usual.

“Stop what?” Beca asks innocently, in the same way Chloe has said to her a million times before.

“Everything okay, cap?” Cynthia Rose says, frowning.

“Fine,” Chloe says a little too brightly. “Everything is fine.”

“You look kinda red,” Amy says. “Well, redder than usual.”

“I’m fine,” Chloe snaps, then forces a smile. “Let’s continue.”

“ _I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away._ ”

“Beca,” Chloe bursts out, then pauses, like she’s surprised at her own forcefulness. “A word?”

Beca smirks smugly as she follows Chloe to the hallway outside of the rehearsal space. “Is there something I can help you wi—”

Suddenly, she’s shoved up against the wall and Chloe’s lips cover her own, muffling the rest of her sentence.

Chloe’s hands fist tightly in Beca’s shirt before one moves up to Beca’s hair, tugging gently as Chloe kisses her way down Beca’s neck.

“Rehearsal,” Beca gasps out, grabbing onto Chloe’s shoulders just to stay upright.

“You need to stop talking,” Chloe murmurs into Beca’s skin. “And put your mouth to good use.”

“Wha—?” Beca starts to question, but when she sees the look on Chloe’s face she says, “Oh.  _Oh_.”

Chloe grins wickedly, seemingly pleased to be the one in control again.

“Supply closet,” Chloe orders, and Beca doesn’t even hesitate. She knows exactly where it is; they’ve… used it before.

“I should sing your lady jam every day,” Beca quips.

Chloe winks. “Trust me, babe. You wouldn’t survive it.”

Beca swallows hard.


	280. Chapter 280

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We work together in a little diner and I swear to god, you are the fucking clumsiest person in the entire world, and I keep having to clean up after you whenever you drop a bunch of food and dishes or spill some drinks” AU

Beca hates this damn diner.

She hates the old white guys who come in after their golf games and order ten different kinds of sodas. She hates the teenagers who come in on Friday nights and throw food at each other. She hates her boss, who seems to perpetually have a stick stuck up her ass.

But most of all, Beca hates the uniforms: Short-sleeved, button-down, pressed shirts and short skirts with a little white apron around the waist. And they’re pink.

Beca has talked to her boss about this. She thinks the word she used was  _sexist_ , but her boss just said, “We don’t stray from tradition,  _Beca_.”

And that was the end of that.

Beca also hates her coworker Chloe. Not because she’s prettier than Beca can ever hope to be, or because all of the customers seem to worship the ground she walks on.

Chloe is clumsy as fuck.

In the last week, Beca has had to clean up three of her spilled sodas, a bowl of tomato soup she managed to dump on the ground, and a dropped basket of fries that went  _everywhere_.

Beca hates her, but she can’t complain to her boss because Chloe is her best friend.

One day, Beca snaps.

She’s trying to balance three groups of at least five people who all have  _some_ sort of complaint about their food, and Chloe runs straight into her as she’s carrying the  _third_ basket of chicken fingers out of the kitchen, sending them flying.

“Are you  _fucking_  serious right now?” Beca half-shouts before she can stop herself. 

“I’m sorry!” Chloe says, although she doesn’t really seem all that apologetic. 

“You are the clumsiest person I’ve ever met in my life,” Beca snaps, bending down to pick up the food. “And, news flash: Every time you drop something or knock something over,  _I_ have to clean it up!”

“I know,” Chloe says simply.

“And you—wait, what?” Beca blinks up at her, hands stilling over the basket.

“I enjoy the view when you have to bend over to clean stuff up,” Chloe says flirtatiously, shrugging. “Can you blame me?”

“What?” Beca repeats dumbly.

“You have a cute butt,” Chloe tells her with a wink, then saunters away.

Beca just stares at the chicken in her hands, unsure what to do with this information.

“ _Hey! Lady! Where’s my chicken?_ ”

Beca grits her teeth and resumes cleaning up.

She’ll have to process this later.

(Although she has to admit that the view from down here isn’t bad.)


	281. Chapter 281

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you watched the video of Marcy doing yoga with Brittany? Please do a Bechloe fic where Beca is the clumsy girl who forces her way into yoga class with Chloe because she's jealous of how Chloe seems to like her hot yoga instructor!

Beca doesn’t trust this whole “yoga” thing.

You show up to essentially stand in variant poses for an hour, drop twenty bucks, and leave. Sometimes in elevated heat, which just sounds terrible.

But Chloe, for some reason, loves yoga, so Beca tries to keep the snide comments to a maximum of two per day. 

Recently, though, Chloe’s been raving about how much she  _loves_ her new yoga instructor, Steve. And when Beca looks him up on Facebook (it’s not creepy; it’s a normal thing to do), she grows concerned. 

He’s hot. Like, really hot.

Beca isn’t jealous. She’s just… worried about him hitting on Chloe.

Yes, that’s it.

(Also: Chloe Beale in yoga pants.)

And that’s how Beca finds herself crashing Chloe’s yoga class, swaying unsteadily on her left foot as she tries to track Steve around the room.

Chloe keeps looking at her strangely, but she seemed enthused when Beca  _insisted_ on coming.

It’s actually not  _terrible,_ albeit a tad dull.

But then Steve comes around to adjust Chloe’s hip on her snake or snail or upside-down dog or  _whatever_ pose, placing one hand on Chloe’s left hip and the other on her pelvis, and Beca sees red.

Not-quite-accidentally, Beca tips over and bumps right into Steve.

“Sorry,” Beca says flatly, and Chloe glances at her with an unreadable glare.

And it goes on: Every time Steve lays a hand on Chloe, Beca rather conveniently tips over or stumbles over her own feet or just flat-out elbows Steve out of the way with no excuse.

Beca’s feeling pretty proud of herself; she’s naturally clumsy enough for it to seem believable.

Except the look on Chloe’s face once Steve dismisses them indicates otherwise.

“What were you doing?” Chloe hisses as she rolls up her mat.

“Me?” Beca asks innocently. “Doing what? I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You kept ‘crashing’”—Chloe holds her fingers up in air quotes—“into Steve every time he came near me.” She stands. “You aren’t as sneaky as you think, Mitchell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beca huffs.

Chloe rolls her eyes and tugs Beca by the hand over to the front of the studio, where Steve is talking to another guy (who kind of looks like he’s made at least partially out of wax).

“Beca, this is Steve and Steve’s boyfriend, Paul,” Chloe says pointedly with a smug smile.

Beca blinks. “Oh. Um. I mean. Hi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Paul says.

Beca glances at Chloe, feeling her cheeks heat.  _Sorry_ , she mouths.

Chloe just winks. “You can apologize later,” she whispers.


	282. Chapter 282

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca catches Chloe watching porn

All Beca wanted was to borrow Chloe’s curling iron.

It seems like a reasonable, simple endeavor.

Nothing, however, is simple in this house. And certainly not with Chloe.

“Hey, Chlo, do you have— _whoa_!”

Chloe, at least, has the good sense to look mildly embarrassed as she quickly shuts her laptop.

Beca really should just let it go, push it out of her mind for over-analysis later. But Beca is spectacularly talented at making awkward situations worse.

“Were you watching  _porn_?” Beca asks incredulously.

“Yes,” Chloe answers simply. 

“Like… in your free time, that’s what you do?” Beca says, even though her brain is screaming at her to shut up. “It’s a Tuesday night.”

The corner of Chloe’s mouth quirks up. “Do you not watch porn?”

“I—I don’t—I’m not—” Beca stammers, unappreciative of the way the conversation has turned on her. She hates the way her cheeks and chest immediately flush red. “Once… in a while?” It comes out like a question.

“Sure,” Chloe says, in a tone that makes it sound like she doesn’t believe Beca one bit.

“I saw a porno in high school once,” Beca says, cringing internally at  _that_ memory.

It’s difficult to hold a coherent conversation when her brain runs wild imagining Chloe seated in front of her laptop, hand trailing down her body as the actors’ sounds grow louder and—

Stop. She needs to stop.

“Do you want to watch with me?” Chloe asks, looking like she’s getting immense amounts of amusement and satisfaction from Beca’s discomfort.

“No!” Beca nearly shouts, then clears her throat. “No, um, no thanks. I’m good. You just…” She backs toward the door. “…finish what you started.”

“I’ll get right to it,” Chloe says with an exaggerated lip bite that does weird things to Beca’s stomach.

Beca moves to leave, then remembers something and turns back around. 

“Was that… lesbian porn you were watching?” she asks, slowly and carefully.

Chloe just winks and says, “Have to my skills up to date.”

“Wait,  _what_?” Beca says dumbly.  _What does that mean? For whom?_

“Still don’t want to experiment?” Chloe asks.

“I—” Beca starts to say, but the forceful sounds of fake orgasms begin echoing through the room again, so she turns and hightails out of there.


	283. Chapter 283

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bellas find out about the shower incident and won’t stop teasing Beca and Chloe about it.

In retrospect, it is rather odd that nobody question just how Beca ended up auditioning for the Bellas.

Everyone just assumed it had something to do with Chloe—which is as true as it is obvious, as much as Beca tries to play it cool.

By the time senior year rolls around, Beca thinks that she’s gotten away with keeping their little secret an actual secret, which is no small feat among ten girls.

Until one day Amy asks, “Beca, why did you audition for the Bellas, anyway?”

And just like that, her cover’s blown, because of  _course_ Chloe launches right into the full story as the rest of the Bellas listen attentively.

Emily looks confused. Stacie keeps licking her lips. Amy just looks downright concerned.

“And you just agreed to sing  _dans le nu_ with Agent Orange?” Amy asks Beca incredulously.

“She wouldn’t leave if I didn’t,” Beca says defensively, cheeks burning red.

Chloe, of course, just looks amused.

“You would have screamed,” Amy points out.

“Or used your rape whistle,” Emily adds, holding up the little whistle on its wristband.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Beca mumbles. 

“Anything that gets you out of your bedroom is a big deal,” Amy comments, and Beca glares at her. “But now I know that whenever I need you to go something, I’ll just harmonize with you on ‘She Wolf’ when you’re dropping a deuce.”

Beca tries her best to disappear in her chair, meld into the metal and become one with it. “I am going to kill you,” she hisses to Chloe as Stacie and Cynthia Rose start acting out how they believe the whole  _incident_ went down and— _hey_ , Beca definitely didn’t shove her boobs in Chloe’s face!

“I’m looking forward to it,” Chloe says with a smile. “This conversation has me in the mood for another duet.” She winks, and Beca’s insides dissolve into hormones and inappropriate fantasies and  _want_.

So she shuts her mouth and makes a note to make Amy, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose do extra cardio at the nest practice.


	284. Chapter 284

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca’s been in love with Chloe for years, but still ignores the comment in the tent. Because she doesn’t want to be Chloe’s experiment, she wants to be Chloe’s everything.

It hurts.

It shouldn’t hurt; it’s everything Beca’s wanted for the last three years.

Well, almost everything.

How many times has she daydreamed about what it would be like to kiss Chloe, fingers tangled in impossibly soft red locks of hair? How many nights as she stared up at her ceiling, fighting off contemplations of falling asleep in Chloe’s arms? How many times has she fantasized about what it would be like to  _touch_ Chloe—everywhere—and make her see stars?

Beca could have it. She could say one word and have it—all of it.

Well, almost all of it.

In the agonizing few seconds after Chloe’s whispered confession—the words, “You know, Beca, my biggest regret is that I didn’t do enough  _experimenting_ in college,” falling from her lips so casually and flirtatiously—leaves her mouth, every part of Beca’s body screams  _yes_. Her hands itch to run over every contour of Chloe’s body, but she keeps them still.

And it hurts.

 _Experiment_. That’s what she is—what she would be. That’s how Chloe would think of her. That’s the  _only_ way Chloe would think of her. Beca would be just a flippant story told twenty or thirty years later at a dinner party: “Oh, I did some  _experimenting_ in my college days.”

It could be beautiful; it could be everything that Beca ever dreamed of. It could be gentle and slow as they learned each other’s bodies, what they like and they don’t like. Beca could touch the sun.

But it wouldn’t mean anything.

So it hurts.

And Beca does the only thing she can do: She hisses back, “You’re so weird,” and turns away, too fast to see the flicker of hurt in Chloe’s eyes.

 _I don’t want to be your experiment_ , Beca bites back.  _I want to be your everything_.

Hopefully, someday, she can forget about this.


	285. Chapter 285

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do one where Beca gets hit on by a creep, or she sees an ex, and Chloe immediately feels super protective of her and pretends to be her girlfriend?

There’s something about this club.

Beca doesn’t know what it is, but every time she comes here, she gets hit on.

Maybe it’s the water.

She doesn’t even  _like_ going out to clubs; Chloe does. Chloe likes to dance, so Beca concedes.

Beca doesn’t know why she’s the one who gets hit on instead of Chloe. Although it could be perhaps that she’s stationary.

So when Beca hears, “Hey, baby,” she turns around with her well-rehearsed  _no-thanks_ smile.

“Hi,” Beca says tersely.

The guy leans close enough to Beca for her to smell his cologne. “Wanna get out of here?”

Beca gapes at him. “Seriously? We met five seconds ago.”

The guy grins in a way that he probably thinks is flirtatious but really makes him look like he has low muscle tone. “Not a problem for me.”

Beca opens her mouth to retort, but is cut off by Chloe chirping, “Beca!” and a pair of arms sliding around her waist.

“Um, hi?” Beca says confusedly.

Chloe’s breathing is rapid in Beca’s ear, out of breath from dancing. Her body is radiating heat. Beca’s palms start to sweat.

In lieu of an answer, Chloe leans in to press a kiss to Beca’s jawline. Beca flinches, but Chloe whispers, “Just go with it.”

Beca tries to steady her breathing and relax, but it’s hard when Chloe is nipping at her skin like she’s done this a million times before.

It takes Beca a moment to realize that the guy is  _still_ there. “Is there a problem?” Beca asks him, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Uh—”

Beca doesn’t hear what else he says because Chloe grabs her chin gently and  _kisses her_.

It might have something to do with the liquor Beca tastes on Chloe’s tongue—holy shit, she can  _taste Chloe’s tongue_.

After several minutes Beca foggily glances to where the guy was sitting. His stool is empty.

“Chlo, he’s gone,” Beca mutters breathlessly.

Chloe doesn’t move to let go of Beca, tangling her fingers in Beca’s hair and running her tongue over Beca’s teeth.

“I know.”


	286. Chapter 286

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Either Beca or Chloe (your choice) has bruises/scratches/etc all over and their parents are worried that their daughter is being abused and confronts them about it. (Whichever girl you choose) And said daughter has to awkwardly explain that it's from rough sex and that she's the one who sort of initiates it or whatever.

Having dinner with her father is never really Beca’s choice way to spend an evening.

Having dinner with her father  _and_ Chloe is just about the last thing Beca wants to do.

Weirdly, the two seem to get along splendidly (Beca’s not bitter about it—she’s  _not_ ). Maybe it isn’t so weird—Chloe could charm a roaring lion into a timid kitten.

Something is off tonight, though. Not with Chloe, who is her usual, frustratingly perfect self. Beca’s dad keeps giving her  _looks_ from across the table, and Beca can’t figure out what the heck he wants from her.

“Beca.”

Her dad’s voice startles her as she’s loading her plate into the dishwasher. She whirls around. “Yeah?”

Dr. Mitchell has a very serious look on his face. It makes Beca nervous. “Can I ask you something?”

“Uh, I guess,” Beca says slowly, leaning against the counter. “About what?”

“I’m concerned about you,” Dr. Mitchell says, his voice hushed. “Is Chloe treating you… alright?”

Beca recoils. “What? Of course she is.”

Dr. Mitchell holds up his hands. “I’ve… you’ve just got these bruises on your neck, right here”—he points to where Beca’s neck meets her shoulder—”and scratches on your arm and I was just wondering…” He trails off.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Beca self-consciously pulls her sleeves down, and she can already feel her face heating up. “It’s not—you don’t—” she stammers. “It’s not like that. It’s from… entirely consensual, um,  _activities_.”

Dr. Mitchell looks confused. “What?”

Beca wants to  _die_. “We—”

“There’s no need for concern, Dr. Mitchell,” Chloe’s voice says, and Beca looks up to see her entering the kitchen. “Beca and I just had some rather rough sex.” 

Beca gapes at Chloe; she doesn’t know whether she wants to kill Chloe or make a mad dash for the door.

All of the color drains from Dr. Mitchell’s face. “Um. Oh,” he says, eyebrows nearly to his hairline.

Chloe nods. “Totally consensual. It was Beca’s idea, actually. She likes it when I—”

“Okay!” Beca says a little shrilly, jabbing Chloe sharply in the side with her elbow. “He gets it, Chlo.” She grabs Chloe’s arm a bit harder than she intends to.

“Just like this,” Chloe says, pointing to Beca’s hand with a wink.

 _Oh, my God_ , Beca thinks, looking at her father’s horrified face. “We are leaving,” she tells Chloe, pulling her out of the room.

“She’s in good hands, Dr. Mitch!” Chloe calls over her shoulder.

Beca doesn’t know whether she should pray to be struck by lightning or just to dissolve into a puddle, but she does know one thing—

She is  _never_ bringing Chloe here again.


	287. Chapter 287

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca gets the hiccups but they’re like really cute and high-pitched and she gets embarrassed but then Chloe calls her cute so she yells at her and hiccups during it and the whole time Chloe tries not to laugh.

Thursday is Chloe’s favorite day of the week.

She and Beca have a solid three coinciding hours of no classes, work, or practice—during which time Chloe parks herself in Beca’s room with snacks and her laptop.

Usually they just silently do homework side-by-side as Beca eats the entirety of whatever Chloe brought for herself.

It’s approximately an hour into their study session when Beca asks, “Chlo, do you have any wa—” and then is cut off by a hiccup, high-pitched and sudden.

“You okay?” Chloe asks, raising an eyebrow. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard Beca hiccup before.

Beca hiccups again. “I’m fine,” she says, hiccuping twice more in succession. She covers her mouth, shoulders jerking as she tries to suppress her hiccups, but a few still escape. “I’m  _fine_ ,” she repeats, reddening when she notices Chloe still staring at her.

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Chloe tells her, trying not to laugh. “You just sound so cute.”

“I do not,” Beca denies quickly, like she always does when Chloe compliments her in a way that doesn’t involve the word “badass.”

“You do.” 

“I  _don’t_ ,” Beca insists, her voice rising in volume—although Chloe’s pretty sure that could be due to her uneven breathing as a result of the hiccups.

“You don’t have to yell it at me,” Chloe jokes.

“Sor—” Beca hiccups.

“It’s okay,” Chloe says, standing up. “I’ll get you water.”

“Thanks,” Beca says more quietly.

Chloe lingers in the doorway for a moment, then turns around. “You know, the Kommissar was right.”

“What?” Beca looks confused.

“You sound like a tiny _maus_.”

Chloe ducks out of the way right before the pillow Beca throws hits her.


	288. Chapter 288

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a mini fic where Chloe manages to drag Beca to watch Gravity or The Martian or something and everyone thinks she succeeds just because Beca is whipped (which she is) but really Beca is a huge space nerd and Chloe sees right through her?

“What’s the plan for date night tonight?”

Beca turns around to glare at Stacie. “It’s not date night.”

“Yeah,” Stacie says, “it is.”

“We’re not dating,” Beca points out.

“Girl, you have a designated night of the week set aside for you two.” Stacie flips her hair over her shoulder. “And you go see movies, which you hate, because Chloe wants to. You’re dating.”

“We’re  _not_ —”

“Ready to go?” Chloe asks, breezing into the kitchen in a cloud of floral perfume and hairspray. She looks beautiful, like she always does, although Beca prefers Chloe in sweatpants and no makeup, lounging on the couch. 

Beca wonders how much of Chloe’s appearance is for  _her_.

“Where are you guys going?” Stacie asks, clearly unsatisfied with Beca’s arguing.

“We’re going to see  _The Martian_ ,” Chloe says, grinning as she digs around in her purse for her keys. 

“That’s like two and a half hours long,” Emily comments from her seat at the island.

“Chloe’s really got you around her finger,” Stacie says as she brushes past Beca, softly but not soft enough for Chloe not to hear it. Beca sees her bite her lip out of the corner of her eye.

“If you get bored with the red planet, just look at the redhead on your left,” Amy jokes. “Oh wait—you already do.”

“We’re leaving!” Beca says loudly, practically dragging Chloe out of the house. “I hate them.” She makes a face.

“You’re welcome,” Chloe says simply.

Beca frowns. “For what?”

“For not telling them  _The Martian_ was  _your_ pick, you space nerd,” Chloe says, pecking Beca on the cheek before bouncing down the steps. “Now come on, you’re buying me popcorn if you want to hold my hand during the tense parts.”

Beca absently brushes her hand over her cheek, where her skin is still tingling.

Maybe she is dating Chloe Beale.


	289. Chapter 289

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone freaks at a cricket or spider in the rehearsal room and Beca sorts it out easily so Chloe is like “my hero.”

Just once, Beca would like to be able to get through a rehearsal without some sort of distraction.

And dammit, they were  _so_ close to doing that today.

It was stupid of her to hope, Beca supposes, because the second that thought runs through her head Jessica screams, “There’s a spider!”

And then everything falls apart.

Some of the Bellas shriek; others run in random directions. Amy manages to climb on top of the piano. Chloe clambers onto a chair.

Beca rolls her eyes.

“Okay, let me look,” Beca says tiredly, heading over to where Jessica had been standing.

In everyone’s defense, the spider is a fairly large one. But it’s not, like,  _human-eating_ size.

She sighs and grabs a piece of sheet music, carefully nudging the spider onto it before gently folding it in half and depositing it out the door.

Beca returns and surveys the scene. One would think that there was some kind of impending natural disaster instead of a tiny bug.

Beca holds brushes her hands together and says, “Problem solved.”

Some of the Bellas still look around warily, but Chloe hops down from her perch and comes over to loop her arms around Beca’s neck. Her skin is still warm from their last run-through, sliding against the sweat on Beca’s exposed shoulders. It makes her shiver.

“My hero,” Chloe declares, and plants a big, wet, dramatic kiss on Beca’s reddening cheek.

“Okay, okay,” Beca says, her voice cracking a little. She clears her throat. “It was just a spider.”

“My knight in shining headphones,” Chloe jokes, resting her head against Beca’s for a moment before bouncing away to resume rehearsal.

Beca touches her neck where Chloe had brushed against it. It tingles

Perhaps she’ll have to plant more bugs in the rehearsal room in the future.


	290. Chapter 290

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do one where Chloe accidentally deletes one of Beca’s mixes? Beca’s reaction is up to you.

Beca doesn’t let anyone listen to her mixes.

Anyone, that is, that’s not Chloe.

Chloe wears this privilege like a badge of honor (and has used it several times as a trump card in arguments).

Okay, well—Beca lets her listen to  _some_ mixes, which are placed in a folder named “Chloe,” on Beca’s desktop for the times when Chloe steals Beca’s laptop without asking.

It’s hard not to venture outside of the designated folder and click around on Beca’s hard drive, and Chloe would be lying if she said she never did that.

Today is one of those days, and Chloe does feel guilty as she caves in and double-clicks on a file called “Chloe.” (It has her name on it, after all.)

For some reason, it won’t play, and Chloe hits a few keys to try and make it work.

 _The file “Chloe” has been deleted_.

“Wha—?” Chloe clicks frantically, hitting the keyboard, but nothing changes. Her heart speeds up. 

She just has to act calm and Beca will never know, right? Or she’ll assume that her computer glitched and deleted it. Or something.

Chloe puts the laptop aside and picks up her book, trying to breathe deeply and keep her face neutral when Beca enters the room.

Beca pauses in the middle of the room and stares at Chloe, eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Chloe blurts. “I was just listening to some of your mixes and I… I wasn’t snooping, I swear!”

“You, snooping? Never,” Beca deadpans. She eyes Chloe warily and pinches the bridge of her nose. “What did you do, Beale?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?” Chloe asks in a tiny voice.

Beca stares at her for a moment before sighing. “Sure.”

“I was listening to a mix that was labeled ‘Chloe’ and I accidentally deleted it,” Chloe admits, watching Beca carefully for any indication that she’s upset.

Beca claps a hand to her forehead. “Goddammit Beale, that was supposed to be your birthday present!”

Chloe’s eyes light up. “You were making me a mix for my birthday?”

“I  _was_ ,” Beca says. “Now, you’re getting socks.”

Chloe can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of Beca carefully arranging songs with her in mind. “And I will love them,” she promises as Beca sits down on the bed next to her.

Beca pulls her laptop into her arms. “And you will keep your hands off of this until after Christmas,” she says seriously.

Chloe nods. “I’m sorry for deleting the mix,” she apologizes, punctuating her words with a kiss to Beca’s cheek.

Beca wipes at her cheek, something that Chloe knows now is only for show. “Yeah, yeah. It’s okay.” She notices Chloe staring at her. “What?”

Chloe grins at her. “Nothing.”


	291. Chapter 291

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was sent to be in all caps, and I'm not going to retype it:
> 
> YES HALLOWEEN. BECA AND CHLOE ARE TRICK OR TREATING, AND CHLOE DRAGS BECA INTO A HAUNTED HOUSE AND WHEN SOMEONE POPS OUT, INSTEAD OF BECA GETTING SCARED CHLOE STARTS CRYING AND BECA HAS TO WALK HER OUT. "Babe it's okay we're out now." FLUFF EVERYWHERE.

Beca supposes she understands why Halloween is Chloe’s favorite holiday—because on what other day of the year can she dress like a sexy nurse and go out in public?

(In private, Beca encourages Chloe to dress like a sexy nurse  _every_ day.)

But Chloe “sexy nurse” Beale and Chloe “too scared to go in the basement” Beale are one and the same, so Beca is surprised and confused when Chloe insists on going into a haunted house.

When the door shuts behind them with a slam of finality, immersing them in total darkness, Beca starts to regret saying yes.

“It’s okay,” Beca whispers, clutching Chloe’s hand, and she’s not sure if she’s talking to Chloe or herself.

“I know,” Chloe whispers back, sounding amused.

They walk cautiously forward, eerie sounds pouring out of every dark corner. Beca feels her muscles tense, shoulder blades practically pinching together with the painful anticipation; shouldn’t something have  _happened_ by now?

“BOO!”

“Augh!” Beca shrieks, jumping nearly a mile straight upward as a garishly made-up clown pops out of nowhere in a flash of light. Internally, she apologizes to Chloe, whose arm she’d nearly jerked out by the hand.

 _Chloe. Right_.

Beca turns to check on her girlfriend, squinting to make her out in the nearly nonexistent light. Wait. Is Chloe… crying?

“Chlo,” Beca says worriedly, pressing a hand to her cheek to be sure. She is. “Chloe, are you okay?” It’s now that Beca notices how much Chloe is shaking.

“Leave,” Chloe gasps out. “I need to leave.” 

Beca doesn’t need to be asked twice: She turns on her heel, Chloe in tow, and pushes through the crowd of people. “We need to get out.”

“You can’t go that way,” complains somebody, and Beca hopes that they can see her glare at them.

“Yes, I can.” 

With a few well-placed elbows, Beca wrenches the door open, shielding her eyes against the sharp, sudden contrast of the bright sun.

“Chloe, are you okay?” Beca asks worriedly. 

Chloe’s not crying heavily—Beca figures she was more startled than anything—but she’s pale and breathing unevenly. Still, she manages a nod.

“We’re leaving,” Beca decides, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s waist and digging her keys out of her pocket.

“But—”

“We’re  _leaving_.” Beca pauses to wipe Chloe’s tears away with her thumb, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Chloe smiles a little crookedly when they part, and her hand is warm in Beca’s own. “Fuck Halloween. We can watch movies or something.”

“Okay,” Chloe agrees.

They walk across the fairgrounds toward the parking lot, sidestepping children and teens with their eyes glued to their cell phones. Then Beca suddenly stops.

“But first,” Beca says, holding up a finger, “cotton candy.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Of course.”


	292. Chapter 292

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca doesn't really like Halloween, like it's not her thing- but Chloe's OBSESSED, with all the decorations and makeup. Chloe tries to get Beca into the spirit and ends up teasing her that she won't be able to scare a fly. Beca: challenge accepted.

Beca doesn’t care for Halloween.

Well, she  _used_ to like it—right up until the year her mother deemed her “too old for trick-or-treating.” Now she sees no use for it.

Chloe disagrees.

“Halloween is  _fun_ , Beca,” Chloe explains, like she’s speaking to a small child or the way Beca has seen old white women speak to their dogs. “You get to dress up!”

“So?” Beca says, bored. 

“It’s fun,” Chloe repeats. “You get to put up all of these decorations, and you get to scare people.” Then, almost as an afterthought, “Not like you could even scare a fly.”

Beca sits up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chloe shrugs. Her grin is measured, but Beca doesn’t much notice. “You’re about as scary as a newborn kitten.”

“I resent that.”

“Sorry,” Chloe says, but Beca catches the tail end of an eye roll as she turns away. “Stay in on Halloween if you want. I’m going all out.”

As soon as Chloe disappears around the corner, Beca starts brainstorming.

“Operation Scare Chloe Beale is a go,” Beca mutters, then shakes her head at herself. 

Maybe Chloe is right: She does need to get out more.

* * *

Turns out Beca isn’t much good at logistical planning that doesn’t involve music.

She tries the hide-around-the-corner-and-jump-out method.

“BOO!”

Chloe snorts.

(It doesn’t work.)

She tries the hide-behind-the-couch-and-jump-out method.

“GAH!”

Chloe rolls her eyes.

She tries the hide-in-the-closet-and-jump-out method.

“HA!”

Chloe shakes her head.

Beca goes back to the drawing board.

* * *

Beca is about to shampoo her hair when the lights in the bathroom suddenly go off.

She freezes. “Hello?” she calls out tentatively.

A circle of light—perhaps from a flashlight—appears on the shower curtain, with a shadow in the shape of a clown head in its center.

Beca screams.

As quickly as they went off, the light turns back on. 

Chloe’s head appears around the edge of the shower curtain. She looks rather  satisfied. “And that,” she says, “is how you scare someone.”

“Fuck you,” Beca says shakily. “I’m gonna  _kill_  you, Beale.”

Chloe ducks back out and opens the door. “Like you could.”


	293. Chapter 293

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey organizes a halloween party for the Bellas. Everyone happens to turn up in the old Bella uniform.

“Well, one of us is going to have to change.”

“Were you really all too lazy to come up with an actual Halloween costume?”

“Um, pot? Meet kettle.”

“Aaaand we’re arguing again. This  _is_ just like the old Bellas.”

“Guys.” Chloe claps her hands together. “It’s fine, okay? We just look like we coordinated!” she says brightly.

“Ew,” Beca mutters under her breath. Chloe elbows her.

“Yeah!” Amy chimes in, seeming enthused by the idea. “Let’s just drop some beats right now!”

Cynthia Rose and Stacie turn on their heels and walk away, and Jessica and Ashley shrink back, shaking their heads minutely. Even Aubrey doesn’t look too eager.

“Um, sorry, Amy,” Chloe says. “Maybe another time.”

“So if anyone asks, we planned this,” Aubrey says curtly before she heads over to the drinks table.

“Jeez,” Beca says, turning to Chloe, tugging at the yellow scarf around her neck. “Even at a party she has a stick up her ass.”

“Shh,” Chloe chides, but she’s looking at Beca strangely.

“What?” Beca asks.

Chloe steps closer to Beca, backing her into the nearest wall with a penetrating stare. Beca squirms under Chloe’s gaze. “You always did look so hot in that uniform,” Chloe purrs, and Beca shivers.

“Chlo—”

Beca is cut off when Chloe kisses her, hungrily and fervently. Beca digs her nails into Chloe’s blazer-covered shoulders and just tries to keep up, swaying a little in her heels.

“Excuse me, but can you two  _not_ defile my hallway?” Aubrey hisses as she walks by. Chloe pulls back a little, and Beca whimpers at the loss of contact.

However, it’s only so she can murmur, “Our place?”

Beca nods enthusiastically, already being pulled away by the hand.

It’s probably a good thing that Beca didn’t spend more than three minutes on her costume, because it ends up discarded in a heap on her bedroom floor not even an hour after she dons it.


	294. Chapter 294

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a prompt where Beca gets kinda mad at Chloe for something and Chloe pins Beca down and starts kissing her and stuff and Beca tries so hard to stay mad?

Dating Beca is kind of like dating a three-year-old.

Beca pouts when Chloe’s too busy to do something with her. She gets mad when Chloe touches her stuff or steals her food. She complains when Chloe makes her do something she doesn’t want to do.

Chloe prays that it never stops being endearing.

“Chlo?”

Chloe looks up from her laptop. “Yeah?”

“Do you know what happened to the Frosted Flakes?” Beca asks.

Oh, and she only eats cereals with at least twenty grams of sugar.

“I finished them this morning,” Chloe says. “Why?”

Beca frowns. “Those were mine.”

“I didn’t see your name on them,” Chloe replies, rolling her eyes. 

Beca shuffles into the room and plops down on the bed with a dramatic sigh. “But  _I_ bought that cereal,” she huffs.

“There’s, like, six other kinds in the cabinet, Bec,” Chloe tells her with a raised eyebrow.

“But I wanted  _that_ kind,” Beca grumbles, and Chloe knows that she’s going to be sulking about this for the rest of the day.

Pushing her laptop to the side, Chloe crawls the short distance between them. “Come here.”

“No.”

Chloe leans in to kiss Beca on the cheek, but Beca scrunches up her face. Knowing Beca, she’s probably still thinking about Frosted Flakes.

Chloe swings a leg over so she’s straddling Beca and gently pushes her down on the bed. Beca makes a weak noise of protest, but it’s only for show, as she arches into Chloe’s touch when she starts kissing Beca’s neck.

“Are you still mad about the cereal?” Chloe asks.

“Yes,” Beca says stubbornly.

Chloe shakes her head minutely and kisses the underside of Beca’s jaw, scraping her teeth against Beca’s skin in a way that makes Beca squirm underneath Chloe.

Chloe seeks out the spot under Beca’s ear that always graduates her from a toddler to a teenage boy, and she smiles to herself when she feels Beca’s nails dig into her shoulders and hears the strained noise that escapes from Beca’s lips.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Beca breathes out frustratedly, like Chloe knew she would. “ _I’m_  wearing too many clothes.”

“Still mad about the cereal?” Chloe repeats.

Beca looks at her, her eyebrows pinched in confusion. “What cereal?” she asks.

Chloe smirks. “Never mind.”


	295. Chapter 295

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a story where Beca has epilepsy?

Beca’s been acting a little bit  _off_  this week.

Nothing big—just staring blankly off into space during conversations or seeming like she has to concentrate harder than usual on tasks like spreading jam over her toast or fitting her key in the lock. She’s been tripping over her words occasionally, too. 

But Chloe doesn’t really think much of it—frankly, there are stranger things that go on in their house.

But then on Thursday Beca says, “I have to tell you something.”

Chloe looks up from her choreography notes. “What is it?”

Beca pauses, gathering her words. She wrings her hands like she does when she’s nervous about something. “I have epilepsy,” she finally says.

Chloe blinks. “You have what?”

“Epilepsy,” Beca repeats. Chloe shakes her head. “You know. I have seizures.”

Chloe frowns. Beca can’t have seizures. She would have noticed, right? “You do?” she asks instead.

“Yeah,” Beca says. She shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable. “I have since I was a kid. Not that often. Like once every couple of months, maybe. The big ones, I mean.”

“The big ones?” Chloe repeats, confused. 

“Like the—” Beca tenses her hands and sticks out her tongue, rolling her eyes as she shakes her body. She looks like someone getting electrocuted. “I have smaller ones. They’re called absent seizures. It just looks like I’m zoning out.”

“I did notice that, actually,” Chloe says. She feels bad as soon as she says it, because Beca looks embarrassed. Selfishly, Chloe wonders for a fleeting moment if this will affect the Bellas’ performance at regionals in two weeks.

“They usually happen more before I have a bigger seizure,” Beca says quietly, picking at a thread on her jeans. “I can kind of tell when one is coming. I just feel a little… off until it happens.”

Chloe’s eyes widen. “Are you going to have one soon?”

“I think I might,” Beca admits. “That’s why I’m telling you. So if you hear a thud while I’m in the shower, that’s me.” She laughs a little and averts her eyes. “I take meds that keep it pretty under control, but I still have them sometimes.”

Chloe feels oddly touched, and she squeezes Beca’s hand. “I’ll keep an eye on you,” she promises.

Beca smiles hesitantly. “Thanks.”

* * *

It happens while they’re at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast.

Looking up at the sound of metal clinking against ceramic, Chloe sees Beca repeatedly lifting her spoon a few inches and lowering it down again, like she’s stuck on the motion.

“Bec, are you—”

Then Beca’s head turns sharply to the right and she inhales, the breath getting caught in her throat. She makes a deep rasping, choking noise and turns white, and Chloe is suddenly terrified that Beca isn’t getting enough air.

“Breathe, Bec!” Chloe calls, unsure if Beca can even hear her. She hurriedly gets up and wraps her arms around Beca so she doesn’t fall off of her stool as her body jerks.

It’s not like the seizures Chloe has seen in films or TV shows—Beca isn’t foaming at the mouth or convulsing wildly on the floor. Her leg hits the base of the counter rhythmically, and Chloe winces, knowing she’ll probably have a bruise.

It’s over rather shortly, leaving Beca heaving in Chloe’s arms as she sucks in the air that was lost from her lungs.

Chloe stands like that, embracing Beca, for a long time. It’s wrong, probably, but she relishes the feeling of Beca, warm and relaxed, leaning against her. 

Beca mutters something unintelligible, and Chloe says quickly, “You don’t have to talk. You had a seizure, but you’re fine. You didn’t hurt yourself.” Beca seems to accept this.

Beca looks up at Chloe, her steel-blue eyes standing out in contrast to her still-pale skin. She stares at Chloe intently for a moment, and Chloe thinks she understands what she’s trying to say.

“You’re welcome,” Chloe says, brushing the hair out of Beca’s face.

Beca nods a little and settles back against her again.


	296. Chapter 296

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bellas end up babysitting somehow but the only person the baby wants is Beca. She’s really good with the baby but she thinks she isn’t and Chloe thinks the whole thing is adorable.

Beca is so clearly not used to being around children.

First of all, Beca holds the baby stiffly in her arms several inches away from her torso in a way that  _has_ to be uncomfortable.

She hadn’t seemed too thrilled when Chloe informed her that Chloe’s cousin, who lives near campus, had needed a last-minute babysitter, but Beca hadn’t refused.

Beca talks to the baby like he’s thirty years old, even calling him “sir” at one point. 

“How about this weather?” she asks, looking down warily at little Jack, who just stares contentedly back up at her.

And that’s the weird thing—the baby  _loves_ Beca.

He had been fussy and irritable all afternoon in Chloe’s arms. She had tried singing to him, rocking him—nothing. So when she came back from the bathroom to find him gurgling happily on Beca’s lap she had been floored.

Beca is awkward and unsure of herself as she cradles Jack, but Chloe catches a hint of a smile once or twice, in between informing him of the downfalls of capitalism. Chloe chuckles.

Beca scowls. “Don’t laugh at me. I don’t know how you talk to these things.”

Chloe shakes her head, smiling. _She’ll be great with our kids_ , she thinks absently, then freezes as she replays the thought in her head. She inhales sharply, too quickly and starts coughing.

Beca peers up at her. “You okay?”

“Yep,” Chloe gasps out, and Beca returns her attention to Jack.

Beca could be great with their kids, someday—maybe.

If Chloe can ever work up the courage to ask her out.


	297. Chapter 297

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a story about Beca's birthday?

Chloe can’t bake.

Chloe Beale, real-life Cinderella and Snow White and Ariel all rolled into one, can expertly burn half a pan of brownies while somehow managing to leave the other half entirely uncooked, and regularly confuses baking powder with baking soda.

It’s almost unsettling, looking between her bright smile and lopsided cupcakes.

Chloe also insists that she can bake just fine, and nobody really has the heart to tell her otherwise.

So Beca is very confused when she comes home on the evening of her birthday and smells something other than the scent of singed cake mix.

She finds Chloe in the kitchen, standing proudly over a neatly frosted white cake. “Happy birthday!” she shouts, like she hasn’t already said it ten times that day.

“Wow,” Beca says, raising her eyebrows. She bites back a  _where did you buy this from?_

“I made you a cake,” Chloe informs her.

“I can see that.” Beca leans forward to inspect it. It’s even and round without even a smudge on the frosting. “All by yourself?”

Chloe frowns. “Yes,” she says, a little defensively.

“Are you  _sure_?”

“ _Beca_ ,” Chloe groans. 

“Sorry,” Beca says. “It’s just—it’s very nice.” She nods. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Chloe says, smiling. “I spent all day making it.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “This may or may not be my third one.”

Beca laughs. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble for me.”

Chloe hooks an arm around Beca’s waist and pulls her in for a quick kiss. “Yes, I did.”

Beca looks up. “Why is there a bow on your head?”

Chloe grins at her, and Beca knows that she’s been waiting for Beca to ask this question. “I spent so long making cakes that I didn’t have time to wrap your present,” Chloe explains. “So you get to unwrap me!”

Beca fights the urge to roll her eyes at the same time her stomach flips. How can Chloe be so sexy yet impossibly dorky at the same time? 

“Okay,” Beca agrees. “But cake first.”

Chloe pecks Beca on the cheek before turning to grab plates from the cabinet. “I would expect nothing less.”


	298. Chapter 298

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a prompt where Emily gets her period for the first time and Bechloe has to handle it?

The call comes about an hour before Chloe leaves work.

The kids have gone home for the day; usually, Chloe stays and grades or sets up for the next day. But when she sees the call is from Emily, she drops the stack of tests in her hands onto her desk and answers. 

“Em? Is everything okay?” Beca should be home with her right now.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Emily says, but there’s an edge of irritation to her voice. “I got my period, and Mom is freaking out.”

Chloe blinks. That’s a lot to take in. Her baby is growing up so quickly. Soon she’ll be in high school and then college and then moving out and—

“Oh God, not you, too!” Emily groans, and Chloe realizes that she’s sniffling.

“No, it’s fine,” Chloe says, stuffing her papers into her bag. “I’m coming home. Do you need me to get you anything?”

Emily pauses. “Chocolate,” she says.

Chloe chuckles. “Okay.”

* * *

When Chloe gets home, she finds Beca hovering around the periphery of the living room, where Emily is watching TV.

“What’s going on?” Chloe asks, crossing the room to hand Emily a bag of peanut M&Ms. 

“I got my period,” Emily recounts, blushing a little at the words, “and then Mom started  _crying_ and she won’t”—she drops her voice—“ _leave me alone_.”

Chloe looks at Beca. Her eyes are suspiciously red. “You know how she is,” Chloe tells Emily quietly with a wink. “I’ll talk to her.” She presses a kiss to Emily’s head.

“Love you,” Emily says absently, out of habit, eyes back on the TV.

“Love you, too.” Chloe shepherds Beca into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s so  _old_ ,” Beca says, another tear escaping immediately. “Do you remember her first day of kindergarten? We couldn’t get her to let go of you. She cried the entire day at school. She  _needed_ us.”

“Um, okay,” Chloe says, unsure she understands what Beca’s point is.

“She got her period today, and she wasn’t even going to  _tell_ me if she didn’t need me to show her where we keep the stain remover,” Beca says seriously, sounding immensely sad.

Chloe’s eyes soften, and she pulls Beca in for a hug. “I know,” she says quietly, feeling a pang of longing for tiny baby Emily. But she’s still so proud of their amazing twelve-year-old, even if the years are flying by. “I love you.”

Beca exhales, her breath ticking Chloe’s chin. “I love you, too.”

Chloe pulls back a little. “But you can’t have a meltdown every month. You’re going to freak Em out.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to be hard to avoid,” Beca says.

“Wha—?”  _Oh_. “Oh God, this house is going to be unbearable with the two of you PMSing at the same time.”

“You agreed to this,” Beca grumbles. “You literally paid money for this.”

Chloe rolls her eyes.


	299. Chapter 299

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe are rival track stars. While racing each other, Chloe twists her ankle and Beca feels bad for her and carries her across the finish line.

The sound of sneakers slapping against pavement has always been Beca’s favorite sound.

Usually, when she’s running, Beca blocks out all noise except the rhythmic sound of her soles on the track, the only sight she sees the lines of her lane and, of course, the finish line.

But this race is a little different: Beca is racing Chloe Beale, practically the only other runner in the league who can give Beca a run for her money.

No pun intended.

Beca keeps watch over Chloe out of the corner of her eye, gauging when to push a little harder or relax a little bit to save energy for the final sprint to the finish.

And then Beca sees Chloe go down.

Without even thinking, Beca stops, turning around to see Chloe clutching her ankle on the track. Beca can hear her father shouting, “What the hell are you doing?!” but she ignores him.

Beca could easily breeze across the finish line and snag first place, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t know why, but it doesn’t feel  _right_  to win like this. So she jogs over to Chloe and extends a hand.

Chloe squints up at her, and Beca doesn’t know if it’s in pain or suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“I want to be the best,” Beca says, and Chloe frowns more.

“What?”

“I want to be the best,” Beca repeats, helping Chloe rise unsteadily to her feet. Her left foot hovers an inch off of the ground. “Which means beating the best when  _they’re_  at their best.”

Chloe stares at her for a moment before smiling and accepting the arm Beca holds out so she can hobble to the finish line.

“It’s cute how you think you would have beat me,” Chloe says.

Beca rolls her eyes. “Don’t forget who’s carrying whom right now, Beale,” she grits back.

Chloe just laughs, high and melodic. 

In short, it’s the worst race of Beca’s life, but she doesn’t much mind.


	300. Chapter 300

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca hurts herself trying to help Chloe. Chloe feels bad and wants to make it up to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I know. You’ve said that ten times already.”

“I know,” Chloe says, biting her lip. She looks pale and tired in the harsh fluorescent glare of the hospital lights. “But I feel like it’s my fault.”

“Amy’s the one that dropped me,” Beca points out, her voice raspy.

“But it was  _my_  idea,” Chloe says forlornly. “I should have known the other Bellas weren’t strong or coordinated enough to lift you up like that.”

“I’m not  _that_ heavy,” Beca gripes, frowning at Chloe. She looks small and childlike curled up in the hospital bed.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Okay. But I feel like it’s my fault that you hurt yourself.”

“It’s not,” Beca assures her for the fiftieth time. She glares down at her foot, wrapped in ice and propped up on some pillows, like she can will the injury away if she thinks about it hard enough.

Chloe opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but the doctor arrives at just that moment and cuts her off.

“Is it broken?” Chloe asks immediately instead.

The doctor chuckles, already accustomed to Chloe’s tendency to be overprotective. “No. It’s just a bad sprain,” she says. Both Chloe and Beca let out a breath of relief. “You’ll have to stay off of it for three weeks. Then we’ll reassess, see if it still hurts, okay?” Beca nods. “Alright, I’ll go get you an AirCast and some crutches.”

“See? It’s fine,” Beca says. “But no rehearsals.”

“That’s okay,” Chloe says quickly. “I’ll bring you your food and stuff and carry you up and down the stairs and I’ll help you get to class and—”

“Chloe,” Beca interrupts, holding up a hand. “Stop. You don’t need to be my servant.”

“But—”

“ _Chloe_.”

“Okay, okay,” Chloe hedges, reaching for Beca’s hand and squeezing gently. “Then I’ll lie in bed and watch TV shows with you and get you ice, okay?”

“Okay,” Beca allows, squeezing back.

“I just want you to get better fast,” Chloe says quietly, and Beca smiles, tugging Chloe closer by the arm and pressing a clumsy kiss to her cheek.

“I know,” Beca says, looking at the floor and blushing.

Chloe just grins.


	301. Chapter 301

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe Neighbors AU where Beca and Chloe live in the same building their apartments being next to the other and one night Beca (who never talked to the redhead so far) come and knock on her door and she is all freaked out and ask Chloe if she can come in and kill the giant spider that is in her apartment.

The knock on Chloe’s door is so frantic that she’s immediately alarmed.

“I’m coming!” she yells, wrenching the door open, revealing a small girl with brown hair and dark eyeliner, fist still poised mid-knock.

“Oh, thank God,” the girl breathes, and Chloe is confused.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Then, “Wait, do I know you?”

“No,” the girl says quickly, shaking her head almost as rapidly as her knocking. “I’m Beca. I live three doors down”—she points down the hall—”and I need your help.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Chloe peers down the hallway, but nothing seems awry.

Finally, Beca pauses. She looks embarrassed and surprised, like she hadn’t planned on getting this far. “Okay, so don’t laugh,” she prefaces, “but there’s this big-ass spider in my bathroom and…” She trails off.

Chloe opens her mouth, closes it again. “ _That’s_ what you’re banging down my door for?”

Beca is rapidly turning red. “I know; it’s stupid. But it’s  _really_ big—”

Chloe grabs her keys from the hook by the door and steps out into the hallway. “Well, let’s take a look at it.”

“Really?” Beca’s eyes widen.

Chloe chuckles, then bites her lip. She’s not supposed to laugh. “Really,” she affirms. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

Beca just lets out a huge breath and leads Chloe to her door. “Thanks,” she says quietly.

“Sure,” Chloe says, and squeezes Beca’s arm. Beca’s eyes immediately zero in on the action, flicking from Chloe’s hand to Chloe’s eyes and back again.

Chloe lets go.

“Last I saw it it was in here.” Beca opens the door to a small bathroom. Chloe wonders if she had closed the door to keep the spider inside, not thinking about the half-inch or so of space between the door and the floor.

She finds it endearing.

Beca squints at the floor, and Chloe starts carefully looking in the corners.

Suddenly, Beca shrieks. “There it is!” 

Chloe whirls around… and immediately bursts out laughing.

The spider is barely bigger than a pencil eraser.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!” Beca says shrilly, eyes wildly tracking the spider.

“I never actually said that,” Chloe points out. She lifts her foot, aims it over the spider, and stomps down. “Problem solved.”

“Are you sure it’s dead?” Beca asks nervously.

Chloe just gives her a look. “You’re welcome.”

“Sorry.” Beca rubs the back of her neck sheepishly. “Thank you.” They stand there awkwardly for a moment. “Do you want, like, five bucks, or…?”

“No, no,” Chloe says, waving her hand and grinning. “Anything for a pretty girl.”

Beca simultaneously looks both incredibly pleased and like she’s about to explode. She takes a breath. “A drink?”

Chloe’s nod is immediate. “I’d like that.” She heads out of the bathroom, and is halfway down the hall when she realizes Beca isn’t behind her. 

She rolls her eyes. “Beca, I  _swear_ it’s dead.”

Beca’s head pops out. “I just wanted to be  _sure_.”


	302. Chapter 302

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca confesses her love for Chloe through drunk texts.

Beca isn’t usually someone who stays up until the early hours of the morning, so Chloe is surprised when she gets a text at 2:37 AM from Beca Mitchell.

 **Beca:** Clho i wnana tell you somethin

Chloe chuckles quietly, her voice hoarse from sleep. Beca must be at the Trebles party Chloe blew off to work on choreography. She pictures Beca tapping at her phone screen with one finger, the way she always does when she’s had too much to drink.

 **Chloe:** What’s up?

When Beca doesn’t reply for several minutes, Chloe figures she either fell asleep or got distracted and puts her phone back on her nightstand. Suddenly, it buzzes again.

 **Beca:** I love youu. Ive alwasy loved u. 

Chloe’s heart immediately starts hammering in her chest, and she’s sure that this is a dream. Her hands shake as she texts back her reply.

 **Chloe:** Why are you telling me this now?

 **Beca:** im scaerd that u won’t love me backk

Chloe’s answer is immediate.

 **Chloe:** I do.

She sits there for at least fifteen minutes waiting for a reply, tapping her phone screen every time it goes dark, but a reply never comes.

* * *

Chloe wakes up half on top of her blanket, sideways on her bed. She blinks her eyes open slowly.

Pushing herself upright, Chloe looks around for her phone. She finds it at the foot of her bed. She’s confused for a moment, but then the night’s events come flooding back to her.

Frantically, Chloe checks her text messages to make sure that it actually happened.

It did. And no reply from Beca.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, Chloe is up and running up the stairs to Beca’s room. Surprisingly, Beca is awake, typing something on her laptop.

Fleetingly, Chloe wonders if Beca even remembers the texts.

But the look on Beca’s face clearly communicates that  _yes_ , she does. And—Chloe’s heart plummets into her stomach—she regrets it.

“Chloe,” Beca says, but then stops, like she doesn’t know what to say next.

“Did you mean it?” Chloe asks, a desperate edge to her voice. She feels a sharp pain in her hand, and she realizes that she’s digging her fingernails into her palms.

“I…” Beca says. She looks away. “I was drunk.”

Chloe closes her eyes for a moment. “So that’s it? That’s how you’re going to play it?”

“I have Jesse,” Beca says quietly, and Chloe doesn’t know if she’s talking to Chloe or to herself.

The room feels devoid of air, and Chloe can’t stand to be in it for one more second. She doesn’t even excuse herself; she turns and bolts.

It was her fault for getting her hopes up anyway.


	303. Chapter 303

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe slaps Beca on the butt all the time as a joke, but when Beca does it to her one day she doesn’t know how to respond.

Chloe discovers approximately three weeks into Beca’s first year in the Bellas that she yelps adorably and jumps about a foot into the air when Chloe slaps her on the butt.

Naturally, Chloe does this at least once a day for the next three years. 

(Beca had also looked thoroughly freaked out the first time, but now she usually rolls her eyes and gives Chloe a slightly less-than-friendly shove.)

It never crossed Chloe’s mind that Beca might at some point do it  _back_.

She’s leaning over the piano, going over a piece of sheet music with Stacie when she feels something firm smack her butt—not enough to hurt, but enough to make a sharp noise.

Chloe jumps about a mile in the air, knocking over her (thankfully closed) water bottle and nearly elbowing Stacie in the teeth. She whirls around to see a smirking Beca, arms crossed and hip cocked.

“Not so funny when someone does it to you, huh?” Beca says smugly.

Chloe just pants, trying to will her startled heart back down to a normal pace. She also feels a tingling, hot and liquid, settle low in her stomach, and she flushes red.

“Earth to Chloe?” Beca calls, a little uncertainly, and it’s then that Chloe realizes she’s just been staring silently for nearly a full minute.

“Uh,” Chloe says dumbly, her voice raspy.

“Are you okay?” Stacie asks, looking at her like she has three heads.

“Fine,” Chloe finally says. “I’m fine. Excuse me.”

She turns on her heel and rushes in the direction of the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face.

She makes a mental note to take an equally cold shower when she gets home.


	304. Chapter 304

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You should write one about the Bechloe wedding day, specifically badass Beca trying to be her sarcastic self the whole day but when she sees Chloe walk down the aisle she isn't so badass anymore and basically loses it at the vows.

“Well, one of us is going to have to change.”

“Beca!” Chloe shrieks, whipping her head around to see her wi— _almost wife_  standing in the doorway. And then she immediately turns away, because, “We’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding!”

“Until you can provide me with a logical explanation as to  _why_ ,” Beca drawls, “I don’t really care.” Chloe hears footsteps crossing the room. “Plus, I heard you have muffins in here.”

“Because…” Chloe says, but realizes that she doesn’t actually  _have_ a reason. “You just can’t.”

“Doesn’t work for me,” Beca replies, and it sounds like she has a mouthful of muffin.

“Beca,” Chloe warns, still facing the wall, “if Aubrey catches you in here…”

Beca’s footsteps freeze, then head to the door. “Okay, okay, I’m outta here.”

“ _Thank_ you.” Chloe presses her fingers to her temples. 

Why is she marrying this monumental pain in the ass, again?

* * *

Chloe is glad that at least  _she_ decided to save her first glimpse of Beca for the actual ceremony.

Beca wears an elegant and simple white gown that makes her stand out from the ornate glass windows of the church. Colored beams of sunlight splash across the hem of Beca’s dress at her feet, and she appears almost luminescent.

But it doesn’t appear that Beca was any better prepared, because as soon as Chloe joins her at the altar she bursts into tears—of joy, Chloe hopes.

She just takes Beca’s hand and squeezes, and Beca gives a watery smile in response.

And if Chloe feels any kind of smugness at making Beca cry just by her very presence, well—that’s incidental.


	305. Chapter 305

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you please do a Bechloe fic on Thanksgiving?

Chloe is trying to get some work done when she hears Beca’s shriek from down the hall.

She’s on her feet in a flash, papers falling from her lap and floating across the floor. 

In the ten steps or so that brings her from the “office”—really a glorified closet—to the kitchen, Chloe’s mind flits from Beca being held at knifepoint by a mystery intruder to Beca slipping on the slick tile floor, leg broken, to Beca cutting her thumb off with the carving knife.

What she finds is Beca standing in front of the sink, staring down at the turkey defrosting inside of it.

“What?” Chloe asks frantically. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“What  _is_ that?” Beca’s voice is shrill and she points to the pink bird so forcefully that her elbow makes a soft cracking noise.

“What?” Chloe repeats, frowning. Her heart is still pounding in her ears.

“ _That_ ,” Beca says emphatically. “In the  _sink_.”

Chloe is at a loss. “The… turkey?”

Now Beca frowns. “What turkey?”

Chloe realizes that she’s proposed to the most childish twenty-four-year-old she knows. 

“That,” Chloe says, walking across the room and gesturing to the sink, “is a turkey.”

Beca hesitates. “That’s not a turkey.” She sounds unsure.

“Yes, it is,” Chloe insists. “Have you never seen one before?”

Beca’s cheeks redden a tiny bit and she looks at her feet—one of which is clad in a Batman sock and the other in a light blue sock with flowers on it that Chloe is pretty sure belongs to  _her_. “Only after it’s been cut.”

“Did you really have to scream? You scared the crap out of me.”

“ _Sorry_ ,” Beca grumbles. “It just looks really gross.”

Chloe rolls her eyes but presses a kiss to the side of Beca’s head as she leaves the kitchen. 

She goes back to the office and is in the middle of gathering her papers from the floor when Beca appears in the doorway.

“Does it have, like, guts and stuff still in it?” Beca asks.

“Yes, Beca,” Chloe says, looking up at her. “They don’t sell hollow turkeys.”

Beca pales a little and looks like she regrets asking. “So you have to take the guts out yourself?”

“Yes, that’s how it works.” Chloe starts to feel exasperation seeping into her tone.

“Just… be careful,” Beca tells her, eyes flicking down to Chloe’s hands.

“It’s not dangerous,” Chloe says with another eye roll.

“No, I mean—” Beca drags a hand through her hair. “I saw this movie once where someone was stuffing a turkey and lost their wedding ring inside of it.”

Chloe blinks in confusion before she realizes what Beca is getting at. Her face splits into a grin. “I’ll take off my ring first, babe. Don’t worry,” she assures Beca.

Beca, looking almost embarrassed, nods once before scuttling back down the hallway.


	306. Chapter 306

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sentence prompt meme: “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Beca isn’t good with feelings.

Exhibit A: She had a crush on a guy in her math class in tenth grade. His name was Ben and he would always let Beca copy his answers if she forgot to do her homework. Whether it was displaced gratitude or romantic feelings, Beca panicked one day when he got too close: She shoved him away and withdrew from the class.

So Beca doesn’t have a very good track record with feelings.

When she realizes (stupidly, belatedly, in the middle of her senior year) that she has rather intense romantic  _feelings_ for Chloe, Beca starts to panic—but she doesn’t think that the withdrawal method will work here.

Um, bad choice of wording.

Blurting, “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified,” the moment Chloe walks in the room isn’t Beca’s finest moment but it certainly isn’t her worst.

Still, she twists the fabric of her sweatshirt nervously in her sweaty hands as Chloe freezes, blinking back at her like she just spoke another language.

Beca coughs. “Chloe…” she starts, but then realizes she doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.

A beat of excruciating silence passes before Chloe asks, “Really?” Her voice is soft and uncharacteristically hesitant.

“Yes.”

Just as Beca’s weighing the pros and cons of dropping out of college a few months before graduation, Chloe squeals and launches herself into Beca’s lap.

Beca manages to catch her before they both go toppling off of the bed, jamming her finger in the process but not caring at the sight of Chloe grinning up at her, eyes bright and cheeks still rosy from the cold.

“I love you, too,” Chloe says simply to Beca’s questioning (and slightly alarmed) look, leaning up to punctuate her words with a peck to Beca’s nose.

Beca grins back.


	307. Chapter 307

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sentence prompt meme: “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

“Do you know why there’s a baby in the living room?”

Amy looks up from—well, what appears to be a large bowl of whipped cream (and little else). “It’s Jessica’s nephew.” She pauses, then frowns. “Or is it Ashley’s?”

Beca nods and drops her bag on the island. “Thanks.”

Beca hasn’t ever been comfortable around children, babies in particular. Maybe she’s afraid she’ll break them, or that they’ll break  _her_ stuff. 

She enters the living room cautiously, rolling her eyes when she sees the four girls—Jessica, Ashley, Stacie, and Chloe—crowded around the baby, who is cradled in Chloe’s toned arms.

Beca frowns a little, remembering how Chloe’s arms were around  _her_ last night in the very same spot as they watched crappy reality television when Beca got home from her internship.

Chloe sees Beca enter the room and grins, waving her over with a nod of her head. “Bec, come meet Aaron.”

Hesitantly, Beca sits down on the couch and looks down at the tiny child. “Hello,” she says, unsure what the usual protocol is when meeting a baby for the first time.

“Isn’t he cute?” Chloe asks, grinning back at him once again.

Beca shrugs, feeling a bit slighted, but also feeling a bit ridiculous for feeling slighted. Chloe doesn’t even seem to notice.

“I think that he’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Chloe coos, scrunching her nose cutely at the baby. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?”

“He’s not  _that_ great,” Beca grumbles under her breath.

Chloe looks up, frowns at Beca, and Beca knows that she’s been overheard. “Wait a minute,” Chloe says, “are you jealous?”

“No,” Beca says defensively, blushing a little. “He’s just a baby.” She hears Stacie smother a giggle, and Beca shoots her an irritated look.

Chloe stares at Beca for a moment before grinning at her. “Don’t worry, you’re the second-cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Chloe assures her in that same cutesy voice. “Yes you  _are_.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Beca says, squirming out of the way when Chloe tries to kiss her cheek.

“Language,” Jessica hisses.

“He’s a  _baby_ ,” Beca shoots back.

“I’ll give you  _plenty_ of attention later,” Chloe whispers, her breath hot in Beca’s ear. When she pulls away, she winks.

Beca just blushes harder.


	308. Chapter 308

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sentence prompt meme: “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Coming home to find Chloe in her bed is not necessarily unusual for Beca. 

Contrarily, it makes her smile. Sometimes Beca finds herself looking forward to cuddling with Chloe after a long day.

Which is weird, because she  _should_ be wanting these things with her  _boyfriend_ , but Beca is exhausted so she files that thought away to overthink later.

Beca pulls the blanket back and promptly shrieks—because  _holy shit_ Chloe isn’t wearing any clothes.

It’s not like she hasn’t seen this sight before, but that was years ago and—

“Is there a reason why you’re naked in my bed?”

Chloe blinks up at her, looking vaguely confused. “S’hot.”

Chloe is drunk—understandable for a Friday night, but that only explains so much.

Beca realizes she’s staring and claps a hand over her eyes, feeling her face flush brightly. “Please put some clothes on,” she pleads, thankful that Amy isn’t around to make fun of how high her voice just got.

“But it’s  _hot_ ,” Chloe complains.

“I don’t care,” Beca shoots back, a little desperately. “At least put some underwear on. Or, you know, go in  _your_ bed.”

There’s a beat of silence. Beca worries that she’s spoken too harshly before she hears Chloe chuckle and say, “Party pooper.”

After a couple of minutes of rustling noises, Chloe announces, “Okay!”

Cautiously, Beca opens one eye to see Chloe in a loose t-shirt and shorts. “Thank you,” Beca breathes.

Chloe just grins up at her and tugs Beca into bed by her hands.

Beca decides to ignore the butterflies that erupt in her stomach at the action.


	309. Chapter 309

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Beca’s 21st birthday. She gets wasted.

“WOOOOOOOOO!”

“Shh!”

“WOO—”

“Beca, I swear to fucking God if one of our neighbors calls the cops because you’re screaming in the driveway, I will kick your tiny ass.”

Beca looks affronted. “But I’m twenty-one.”

“You can still get a noise complaint on your birthday,” Chloe hisses, resuming half-dragging Beca up the front walk. It’s nearly three in the morning, and she’s exhausted.

Sure, she’s seen Beca drunk before—hell, she and Beca get drunk together all the time. But Chloe’s never seen Beca get  _this_ drunk. Hammered Beca is incredibly loud and twice as hard to wrangle as sober Beca.

“I’m tired,” Beca complains at a normal volume (thankfully). 

“Let’s go to bed,” Chloe suggests, unlocking the front door and trying to guide Beca up the stairs without making too much noise.

The rest of the Bellas had left the bar at a normal time, as Beca’s birthday is on a Wednesday and everyone has class the next day. But Chloe decided to stay and celebrate with Beca—and, boy, she’s regretting it.

“Let’s just go up to my room,” Chloe whispers, not wanting to wake the other girls up, and Beca nods—and nearly topples over with the motion.

Chloe digs around in her drawer for a spare pair of sweats and a t-shirt for Beca to wear. When she turns around—

“Whoa!” 

Beca is just standing in her underwear and bra. And it’s not a new sight—she’s seen Beca in less—but Chloe’s face feels hot and she gracelessly shoves the clothes into Beca’s arms. “Here.”

Beca must have tired herself out, because she just makes a grunt-like noise and yanks the shirt over her head. Chloe has to catch her from falling over when she stumbles stepping into the shorts.

Finally— _finally_ , Chloe’s aching feet and back scream out—they make it into bed. Beca immediately wraps her arms around Chloe, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. It makes Chloe’s stomach feel fluttery, Beca’s even breaths against her skin making her whole body warm. 

She’s too tired to think about what that means.


	310. Chapter 310

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We need part two of that snake marriage thing (Bechloe).

It’s Beca’s idea, actually.

She’s practically passed out on Stacie’s couch, mumbling something.

“What?” Stacie asks, leaning closer. “What did you say?”

“Honeymoon,” Beca says into the pillow. “They gotta have a honeymoon.”  Then she burps—really loudly.

“Ew,” Stacie grumbles, standing back up.

But it’s a good idea. 

* * *

“I definitely did  _not_ say that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did,” Chloe chimes in, sipping an iced coffee. 

Beca scowls but doesn’t argue further, which Stacie finds incredible. Perhaps her next project will be studying Beca’s mating rituals. (So far she has pretty much only observed Beca looking like she wants to kill Chloe less than she wants to kill everyone else.)

“So where do you think they should go?” Stacie asks. “I don’t think I’m supposed to take them off campus.”

“What sorts of places do snakes like?” Chloe says. 

“Well, they’re cold-blooded, so they can’t produce their own body heat,” Stacie informs her. “Like Beca.”

“Hey!” Beca frowns even more, but she’s wrapped in a thick sweatshirt despite the fact that it’s only early fall.

Chloe falls silent in thought for a few moments. “What about the basement of the library?” she suggests. “It’s always overheated and it’s pretty secluded so nobody would freak out about having snakes in there.”

Stacie nods. “That works.”

“This is stupid,” Beca chimes in, but Stacie ignores her.

She does notice Chloe’s hand cover Beca’s briefly, and Beca relaxes.

Interesting.

* * *

“You’re not gonna actually let them out in here, are you?” Beca asks, looking over her shoulder. 

Stacie weighs her options and decides that she’d rather not get in trouble for letting animals loose in the library (and have to replace the snakes for her animal behavior class). 

“No,” she says, “I’ll just put the terrarium down over in the corner and we’ll give them some privacy.” She pauses. “And make sure no one comes down this way.”

Stacie sets the small plastic portable terrarium down on a small table by the junction of two bookcases. The basement smells musty, and the books look like no one’s taken them off of the shelves in years. 

“Okay, let’s go on the other side of this bookcase,” Stacie says, corralling them between shelves of old farmers’ almanacs. 

“This is ridiculous,” Beca complains, her arms crossed. 

“You didn’t have to come with us,” Stacie points out.

Beca looks at Stacie, then at Chloe (who giggles behind her hand), then opens her mouth, then closes it. She finally settles on a succinct, “Shut the fuck up.”

“It’s not a real marriage if it isn’t consummated,” Chloe says, and Stacie is about eighty-four percent certain that she’s joking, but she says it so calmly that Stacie just can’t tell.

Beca rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue.

Truly amazing.


	311. Chapter 311

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sentence prompt meme: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of eating habits that are disordered in nature but not actually caused by an eating disorder. (If that makes any sense at all.)

Beca is unusually quiet today.

Normally, Chloe  _is_ the one who does most of the pre-rehearsal lecturing, but Beca always chimes in with notes or—more often—sarcastic comments.

But Chloe looks over a few times as she’s talking about how important it is for them to really  _hit_ every isolation in their choreography because DSM if flawless and they’ll need the points wherever they can get them and—

Beca. Right.

Beca is quiet, and looking kind of pale, too. Extra pale, that is. Chloe isn’t sure if she should be concerned, though, because Beca had been holed up in her room for the last thirty-six hours working on (what Chloe assumes is) their arrangement, and sometimes it takes Beca awhile to fully reintegrate into society.

Chloe thinks Beca still looks beautiful, even with the prominent bags under her eyes.

Chloe shrugs and keeps talking—until Cynthia Rose cuts in, “She’s goin’ down!”

“TIIIIMBEEER!” Amy shouts unnecessarily.

Chloe lunges for Beca, who is more stumbling than actually  _falling_ , grabbing her around the middle and guiding her to a chair.

“I’m fine,” Beca mutters, weakly pushing away a concerned Emily standing way too close to her, looking like she might cry.

“Beca, can you hear me?” Chloe says, brushing Beca’s hair out of her face.

“Yes, I can fucking hear you,” Beca answers, but she still looks unwell. “I probably just need to eat or something.”

A light clicks on in Chloe’s head. She hasn’t seen Beca since the night before last—not even in the kitchen to get a snack. “When did you last eat?”

Beca just shrugs. “I forget.”

Chloe presses a hand to her forehead, letting out a mildly irritated sigh. Does she have to babysit  _everyone_? 

She shakes the thought from her head immediately. Beca was working hard on their arrangement.

“I have a granola bar in my bag,” Jessica offers, and Chloe nods.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” Beca says gruffly, and the group crowded around her disperses a bit.

“You fainted… right into my arms,” Chloe reminds her. She pauses. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Even not having eaten in almost two days, Beca’s answering smack still stings.


	312. Chapter 312

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you do a Hamilton/Bechloe prompt? I don't really know the plot very well but the music is great (it's the only thing I listen to bc of you) so just do what you'd like with who the characters are or just use the plot?

Beca doesn’t like musicals. She likes  _good music_. None of that stupid, happy, we-sing-our-actions-and-call-it-character-development shit.

Chloe, on the other hand,  _loves_ musicals. Listens to them endlessly. Sings them in the shower. Watches them on her laptop on the weekends. Eats them for fucking breakfast.

Beca’s had to shut down a Legally Blonde set list at least six times.

So she’s relieved to actually hear something other than “La Vie Boheme” (just because Chloe made her watch the movie and listen to the soundtrack doesn’t make it  _good_ ) pulsing in Chloe’s room. 

No, this actually has a beat. Beca lingers by the door for a second, and yeah, she thinks that’s actually a  _chick_  spitting those bars, so she pushes the door open.

“Hi, Becs!” Chloe greets her from her desk.

“What are you listening to?” Beca asks. The rap is too fast for her to really focus on the words to discern the artist. 

“Do you like it?” Chloe asks, her expression suspiciously neutral.

“Yeah, it’s not annoying.” Which is pretty high praise when it comes to Beca.

The rapper suddenly morphs into an impressive belt right as Chloe’s face splits into a wide grin.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Beca’s eyes widen. “Wait a second—”

“It’s a musical!” Chloe shouts, jumping out of her chair. “You like a musical! You like a musical!” she sing-songs as she pokes at Beca’s side gleefully.

Beca slaps at her hand. “Not fair! I was deceived by the rap!” She grabs a pillow off of Chloe’s bed and smacks her with it.

Chloe tumbles, laughing, onto her bed and looks up at Beca. “Do you really like it?” she asks quietly after a moment.

Chloe’s iTunes has changed the song into something with a heavy beat and a quick rap balanced with perfectly arranged vocals. It makes Beca rethink her entire life.

“Yes,” she admits slowly. 

Chloe squeals.

“Are you sure this is a musical?” Beca asks, equally skeptical and awed.

“It’s a hip-hop musical about America’s first treasury secretary, Alexander Hamilton!” Chloe announces, and Beca gets the feeling that she’s been giving this speech to a lot of people. 

Suddenly, Beca finds herself being yanked down onto the bed as Chloe gets up and taps at the keys on her computer. “Here, I’ll start it at the beginning and turn off shuffle.”

“Do I have to listen to this entire thing  _now_?” Beca groans.

“Yes,” Chloe informs her, resting her head on Beca’s shoulder.

Strangely, Beca doesn’t even have the urge to argue.


	313. Chapter 313

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this: http://annakendricknews.tumblr.com/post/155923485606/anna-on-brittany-snows-instagram-story-115
> 
> and this: http://annakendricknews.tumblr.com/post/155924198630/from-annas-snapchat-115

“This is stupid.”

“Be quiet. Close your mouth.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Beca!” Chloe says exasperatedly. “Just be quiet and be still for a minute so I can take a picture for Instagram.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Your continued dedication to your pseudo-hipster Instagram aesthetic is not an excuse to boss me around.”

“You complimented me on that aesthetic yesterday,” Chloe points out, stepping back so a woman can walk past.

“I was being  _sarcastic_ ,” Beca says. She looks over her shoulder at the painting Chloe is trying to get her to imitate. It’s a woman with brown hair and blue eyes, and the dimensions are distorted and her neck is at an odd angle. “This shit’s ugly.”

“You’re beautiful and annoying,” Chloe says, only half-kidding. She points to the painting. “At least she’s quiet.”

Beca looks miffed. “Unnecessary.”

“Sorry,” Chloe says, not looking the least bit sorry. “Now just hold still for a minute?”

Heaving a sigh, Beca cocks her head, her face growing serious.

“Thanks, bae!” Chloe squeals after snapping the photo.

“What did I say about using that word out loud?” Beca hisses.

Chloe ignores her and pecks her cheek. 

They move to the next room, which has several marble statues. Beca mimes slapping the bare butt of one of the statues as she walks past. Chloe rolls her eyes.

They settle in front of a painting depicting a violent scene. “That’s me,” Beca says, pointing to a very dead-looking person with a sword or long knife sticking out of their abdomen.

“Sure,” Chloe says. She moves to the painting next to it, in which a medieval-esque man and woman sit next to each other, the man’s hand resting casually on the woman’s boobs. She points to the man. “That’s me.” She points to the woman. “That’s you.”

“Talk dirty to me,” Beca drawls. 

“Hey Beca?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did Van Gogh become a painter?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

“He didn’t have an ear for music.”

Beca jabs her finger in Chloe’s direction. “Don’t fucking start with the puns, Beale.”

Chloe grins. “Did you hear about the artist who paints in jail? He had a brush with the law.”

“Shut up,” Beca demands, but she’s biting her lip like she’s trying to keep from smiling. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Why was the painting arrested?” Chloe keeps going. “It was framed.”

“What do you call a baby nailed to a wall?” Beca asks, and Chloe is momentarily taken aback. 

“What?”

“Art.”

Chloe blinks, mouth slightly open, and then they both burst out laughing.

Judging by the glare they get from another museum-goer, they’re both going to hell.


	314. Chapter 314

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellas going on vacay and Beca with her amazing bikini body and Chloe just being really quiet after they get changed and for the rest of the day because she's too busy ogling and being speechless

“Nope,” Beca says.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Bec—”

“No  _thanks_ ,” Beca says, as if politeness was really going to deter Chloe from physically dragging Beca out from under the beach umbrella.

“You’re not going to die if you just come into the water with us for a bit.” She points down the beach, where the rest of the Bellas are laughing and splashing in the ocean.

Beca opens her mouth and Chloe adds, “ _Please_ ,” with her best puppy-dog pout. The one that never fails to get her what she wants.

“Ugh,” Beca huffs, and Chloe grins. It’s the groan that always precedes Beca giving into Chloe’s nagging.

Beca stands, glares at Chloe, dramatically yanks off her t-shirt and shorts and stalks towards the water, kicking sand up in her wake. And Chloe—is rooted to the spot.

She’d known Beca was cute—hot, even. But Beca is  _sexy._ For someone who actively protests any and all forms of physical activity, her stomach muscles are subtly defined, and the skimpy top doesn’t do much to cover Beca’s full chest. Chloe finds that she can’t tear her eyes away from the sway of Beca’s hips.

“You coming, Beale?” Beca yells at her from the edge of the water.

Chloe startles out of her trance and nods dumbly.

What did she get herself into?

* * *

Chloe doesn’t even realize she’s staring again until she nearly gets beaned in the head with a volleyball.

“Whoa, Chloe!” Stacie pants, picking the ball up from the sand. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” Chloe says, blinking dumbly. Images of Beca jumping to hit the ball, back muscles rippling and sweat sliding down her chest, replay in her head. 

Whose stupid idea was it to play beach volleyball, anyway?

Oh right—it was hers. 

“You sure?” Flo chimes in. “You’re really red.” 

“Yep, fine,” Chloe assures. “It’s just hot out.”

“Pick it up, Chlo. You’re gonna lose this for us,” Beca says, running a hand through her hair. Chloe watches a drop of seat run down the center line of her abs dumbly.

Mistakes have been made.


	315. Chapter 315

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt meme: Muffled, from the other side of the door

“Chloe?”

“In here!” comes the muffled reply.

Beca follows the sound to the upstairs bathroom of the Bellas’ house.

“I told you this door is a safety hazard,” Beca says with amusement in her voice.

“Stacie was hogging the other one,” Chloe complains. “I forgot that this one is fucked up.”

“Where is Stacie, anyway?” Beca asks as she starts unscrewing the doorknob with the screwdriver she retrieved from the junk drawer in the kitchen.

“I think she left while I was in the shower.” Even though her voice is softened by the door, Chloe still sounds sheepish, and Beca can almost hear the shrug that surely accompanies it.

“Well, lucky for you I just got out of class.” Beca finishes unscrewing the final screw and the doorknob clatters to the floor.

“I love you!” Chloe calls, and Beca’s heart does that little fluttery thing that she hates. It’s senior year; it’s really time to kick this stupid crush.

The door swings open, revealing a grinning Chloe, who immediately pounces on Beca with a hug.

“My hero,” Chloe says dramatically, and presses a kiss to Beca’s cheek. She smells sweet, like the fruity shampoo she uses.

Beca’s skin tingles and her heart does that dumb flutter again.

 _Stupid crush_.


	316. Chapter 316

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just need some simplistic domestic trashy fluff Bechloe as moms.

Honestly, it’s Chloe’s own fault for thinking she could sleep in.

Still, waking up to a high-pitched wail is unpleasant—and startles the crap out of her.

Chloe groans and follows the sound to Emily’s room, where the seven-year-old  _should_  be getting dressed.

Instead, it’s World War fucking III.

“But I  _want_  to wear it!” Emily is yelling, her little face red and wet with tears.

Beca looks up when she notices Chloe enter the room. “Please reason with your child,” she pleads, looking a bit guilty for the commotion.

“What’s going on?” Chloe asks tiredly. 

“I want to wear  _this_ ,” Emily says, gesturing to her wildly mismatched outfit (red and white striped shirt, purple leggings, one blue crew sock and one black ankle sock), “but Mommy said no!”

“Because it looks stupid!” Beca interjects, throwing her hands up, and—yeah, okay, sometimes Beca’s parenting leaves a little to be desired.

Chloe pinches the bridge of her nose. “Em, go brush your teeth, please. The bus will be here soon.”

Emily huffs and stalks to the bathroom, and Chloe levels Beca with a glare.

“What?” Beca says defensively. “You think I’m gonna let the other kids think our child is raised by blind Dr. Seuss characters?”

“Who the fuck cares?” Chloe asks exasperatedly. “It’s first grade, not Project Runway.”

“ _I_  do,” Beca says, crossing her arms.

Chloe chooses not to point out that Beca dresses like she never outgrew her high-school grunge phase, instead electing to roll her eyes and pressing a kiss to her lips.

“If you’re trying to distract me,” Beca says, inhaling sharply when Chloe tangles her fingers in her hair, “it’s working.”

“Good.” Chloe smirks before biting at Beca’s lower lip. “And you owe me for waking me up.”

With that, Chloe pulls away and exits the room.

She’s going back to bed.


	317. Chapter 317

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write me a Bechemilacie (Beca/Chloe/Emily/Stacie) fic of them just being domestic and cute?

Beca is really fucking tired of finding other people’s laundry in her laundry basket.

“I’m really fucking tired of finding your laundry in my laundry basket,” Beca says, one hand on her hip, the other holding out today’s offense—a lacy pink thong.

She doesn’t even know to whom it belongs, but it certainly isn’t hers.

“But you’re so good at doing laundry,” Stacie coos, batting her eyelashes. Chloe, seated next to her on the couch, snorts.

“I just shove it all in there and turn it on,” Beca says indignantly. “You can do it just as easily as I can.”

“You turn things on so well, though, Bec,” Chloe teases with a dramatic wink, and Beca immediately feels her face flush.

Stacie claps her hands over Emily’s ears. “There are  _minors_  in the room,” she admonishes.

“I’m not a minor,” Emily protests, shaking Stacie off of her before returning to resting her head on Chloe’s shoulder.

Beca ignores her. “Just stop it, okay? Next time I’m just gonna throw it away.”

All she gets in response is indistinct, noncommittal mutters.

“Whose is this, anyway?” Beca asks, scrunching up her nose.

“Not mine,” Chloe and Emily say at almost the same time.

“I think they’re Aubrey’s,” Stacie says, looking at her fingernails.

Beca drops the thong with a screech. “Great, now I need to amputate this hand!”

“Well, if you ever need a hand, Aubrey’s got great ones,” Stacie says, with a lewd hand gesture Beca immediately tries to erase from her brain.

“Ugh,” Beca huffs, and stalks away to her room.

She doesn’t bring up the subject of laundry again.


	318. Chapter 318

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellas all discussing which other Bella they'd choose to marry if forced to.

“Stacie.”

Beca scrunches up her nose. “Why?”

“Thanks, boo,” Stacie says, blowing Fat Amy a kiss and winking.

“The money,” Fat Amy responds readily. “Bitch has that crazy scientist brain. She’ll probably invent cloning and make, like, ten million a year.”

“People have already successfully cloned animals,” Stacie says.

“See?” Amy points across the room at Stacie. “She knows her shit.”

“As long as you don’t mind coming home to find her in bed with your brother,” Beca says, sticking her tongue out childishly at Stacie when a pillow collides with her head.

“Two sisters,” Amy says, holding up a hand. Beca doesn’t think that would stop Stacie, but she lets the matter drop.

“Beca, it’s your turn,” Cynthia Rose says, and suddenly Beca doesn’t like this game anymore.

“Um, well, you know,” Beca says awkwardly, face reddening like it always does when she’s put on the spot. “I mean, gun to my head, you know, if I  _had_  to—”

“Jesus Christ,” Flo mutters under her breath. 

“…Chloe,” Beca finally says, and it seems like every person in the room rolls their eyes. Except Chloe, who’s fucking beaming next to her. “For, you know, taxes.”

“Girl,  _I_  did Chloe’s taxes,” Stacie says amusedly. “You’re not getting much of a benefit there.”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” Beca snaps, before she catches herself and winces. She opens her mouth to apologize, but Stacie bursts out laughing, and then everyone else does, too.

“My hero,” Chloe coos, wrapping her arm around Beca’s shoulders and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Beca supposes there are worse ways to win Chloe’s affection, although she could do without Amy, Flo, and Stacie imitating her constantly for the next two months.


	319. Chapter 319

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Beca or Chloe being helped through a break up by the other, or through a sickness or injury of some sort.

Chloe is a nice person.

She’s a nice person, and she prides herself on being a nice person.

Which makes her feel kind of bad to concede that Beca—is kind of a huge baby.

And, honestly, what full-grown adult can’t remove a splinter from their own finger?

“It hurts,” Beca whines, cradling her hand close to her chest.

“I know,” Chloe says, rummaging through her makeup bag for her tweezers. 

“I’m never going outside again.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Nobody ever died from a splinter.”

“Yes, they did,” Beca says. “In 1912, in Australia.”

“What?” Chloe takes Beca’s phone from her outstretched hand. “Give me that.”

Sure enough, [Beca has found some Australian archival website showing a newspaper notice for an eleven-year-old boy who died from tetanus as a result of a splinter](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Ftrove.nla.gov.au%2Fnewspaper%2Farticle%2F15337918&t=ODhmNGYzNDQ5MTUwODRiZDMwM2FjZGZiODQ0NThlOWYzZWRjODI5NSwyWW9rUDllTw%3D%3D&b=t%3AZbJKX9nEbE2TUYO2JycMIA&p=http%3A%2F%2Famanaryouserious.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F162610815543%2Fprompt-beca-or-chloe-being-helped-through-a-break&m=1).

“Where the fuck did you find this?”

“I Googled ‘death from splinter’,” Beca answers. 

“Well, lucky for you we’re not in 1912 Australia.” Chloe rolls her eyes again, finally locating her tweezers. “Now show me your thumb.”

Beca shrinks back. “Is it going to hurt?”

“You’re going to be fine.” Chloe gently pulls Beca’s hand towards her. “I’ll take you out for ice cream after if you’re good.”

“I’m not a child,” Beca says, frowning as Chloe examines her thumb.

“Sure you’re not,” Chloe says, and plucks the splinter right out.

“Ow!” Beca cries, almost as an afterthought.

Chloe carefully kisses Beca’s thumb. “All better.”

Beca makes a flustered noise, cheeks pinking, and Chloe grins.

“Ice cream?” Beca says once she recovers.

“Ice cream,” Chloe confirms.

Chloe wonders if Beca hasn’t noticed that Chloe’s still holding her hand, or if she’s just not commenting on it.

She thinks the latter.


	320. Chapter 320

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe wants to buy a puppy for Emily but Beca is unsure till they see the perfect one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now in the era of PP3

“According to the CDC, at least 4.5 million people every year are bitten by dogs, and 20 to 30 of these result in death.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “It’s far more likely you’ll die in a car accident.”

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re not getting her a car, either,” Beca says, crossing her arms.

“We’re not getting her a car because she’s twelve.”

“Why can’t we just get her a hamster?” Beca asks, deliberately dragging her feet in the gravel as they cross the animal shelter parking lot.

“Because she’s been asking for a puppy since she was four,” Chloe points out.

“Yeah, well I asked  _my_ parents for mixing equipment every Christmas for years and I ended up having to buy my own.”

“Yes,” Chloe says, holding open the door to the shelter, “and now you’re small and bitter.”

“You know what?” Beca shoots back. “Why don’t you go fu—”

“Hi ladies,” a chipper woman in a Santa hat with pawprints all over it greets them from behind the front desk. “How can I help you?”

“I need a new wife,” Beca mutters under her breath.

“We’re looking for a puppy for our daughter,” Chloe responds, subtly stepping back onto Beca’s toes.

“Well then you’ve come to the right place,” the woman says with an easy smile. “Head on down the hallway.” She gestures towards the muffled sounds of barking. “It’s the first door to your left.”

“I’m going to train the dog to murder you in your sleep,” Beca hisses once they’re out of earshot.

“Then you accept the risk of getting it also murdering you,” Chloe tells her. She points to a squat, brown dog with a short tail and pointy ears. “What do you think of that one?”

“It’s ugly.”

Chloe points to another one. “How about that one?”

“It looks stupid.”

“That one?”

Beca cringes. “That one kind of looks like Jesse.”

Chloe stops in front of a sandy-colored dog with floppy ears and big brown eyes. “This one?”

Beca looks at it for a moment. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“Really?” Chloe asks.

Beca shrugs. “I could probably tolerate it.”

Chloe grins. “Emily will be so excited!” She kisses Beca on the cheek, making Beca blush lightly. “Let’s name it Bella.”

“Do you think Stacie would mind?” 


	321. Chapter 321

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca is crying because she saw a cute cat and will only let Chloe see her like it.

Beca likes to claim she never cries, but what she really means is that she doesn’t  _let_  people see her cry.

People that aren’t Chloe, that is.

The thing about their Brooklyn apartment is that there’s no sound privacy. It’s cheap, but it’s tiny.

And okay, Chloe can be nosy sometimes, but it’s not her fault that she overhears what sounds like Beca crying quietly from the kitchen.

Naturally, she’s concerned.

“Beca?” Chloe pokes her head through the curtains that separate Beca’s bed from the rest of the apartment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Beca says, turning her head away as she wipes her eyes. She has her laptop in front of her, and Chloe moves closer to see that it’s one of those YouTube compilations of cute cat videos.

“Are you crying over a cat video?” Chloe asks, trying not to sound judgmental or incredulous.

“No,” Beca says defensively. “I’m just allergic to cats and my eyes are watering.”

Chloe decides she’s not going to point out what a ridiculous statement that is.

“Sure,” Chloe says, sitting next to Beca and rubbing circles on her back. “Those cats are cute.”

“They are,” Beca agrees, sniffling. She cautiously leans over and rests her head on Chloe’s shoulder, resting a warm hand on her thigh.

It’s not like Chloe  _enjoys_  seeing Beca cry, but, well—

“Let’s watch this one next,” Chloe says, clicking on a video titled “CUTE CATS: THE ULTIMATE COMPILATION.”


	322. Chapter 322

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca asking Chloe to prom?

Chloe almost misses the CD sitting on top of her chemistry book in her locker. 

Curious, she pops open the case. On the inside, there’s a note that just says:

To: Chloe  
From: Beca

Chloe smiles and tucks it into her backpack.

This certainly isn’t the first CD Beca’s given her, but she still gets that giddy-schoolgirl-with-a-crush feeling whenever she gets another one.

Chloe just wishes Beca were easier to read—sometimes Beca leans her head on Chloe’s shoulder when they’re watching TV, that half-smirk making Chloe’s heart melt. Other times Beca just shoves at her shoulder and calls her a nerd.

Aubrey says Beca so obviously likes her it makes her want to throw up, but Aubrey says that about a lot of things.

Either way, Chloe’s stomach flips in nervous excitement when she goes home and puts the CD into the boom box she bought just so she can listen to Beca’s mixes.

The song starts, and Chloe listens intently for a moment before her hands start to shake.

Beca’s mixed “Prom Queen” by Insane Clown Posse with “Prom Queen” by Lil Wayne.

Chloe’s phone buzzes, making her jump. She has a text from Beca.

 **Beca:**  Listen to it yet?

Chloe smiles at Beca’s impatience.

 **Chloe:** Yes  
 **Chloe:** Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?

The two minutes it takes for Beca to reply are agonizing.

 **Beca:**  Look out your window

Chloe frowns, confused, before pushing aside her curtain.

She gasps.

Standing in her front yard is Beca, holding a sign that reads WILL YOU BE MY PROM QUEEN?

Chloe flies down the stairs so fast she nearly trips and falls on her face.

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe huffs, trying to catch her breath.

“Yes or no, Beale?” Beca prompts, and Chloe notices that her smile is kind of frozen on her face and her hands are curled a little to tightly into the paper. She’s nervous.

Chloe decides to throw caution to the wind. She gently places her palm against Beca’s cheek and kisses her.

It’s brief—very brief—but it feels so  _right_.

“Does that answer your question?” Chloe asks breathlessly.

“It really was a yes or no question,” Beca breathes, but she’s grinning.

“Yes,” Chloe whispers, only a few inches separating her and Beca’s lips. “A million times yes.”

“Oh, good,” Beca says, shoulders sagging in relief. “That would have been really embarrassing if you had said no.”

“You’re a nerd,” Chloe laughs, before kissing her again.


	323. Chapter 323

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wintery Bechloe prompt where they are having a snowball fight and one gets it and for payback tries to shove snow down their shirt or something.

Little-known fact about Chloe Beale: she played softball in high school.

She doesn’t tell many people because she’s enough “pitcher” jokes for three lifetimes. Also, it’s been so many years that she doesn’t really consider it relevant information.

Beca would probably beg to differ when she gets nailed right in the face with a snowball.

“What the FUCK, Chloe?”

Beca wipes the show from her face, but some of it clings to her eyebrows and eyelashes.  She looks so affronted that Chloe can’t help laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe wheezes, bracing her hands on her knees as she laughs. 

“Oh, yeah?” Beca seethes. She bends down and gathers a big handful of snow. “You’re gonna be sorry!”

Chloe lifts her head in time for Beca to grab the collar of her shirt and stuff her hand down it.

“You bitch!” Chloe gasps, feeling the snow soak her bra and drip uncomfortably down her stomach.

Beca grins triumphantly. “Not so much fun when it happens to you, huh?”

Chloe also notices something else: Beca hasn’t fully removed her hand from Chloe’s shirt. Beca’s face is close enough to Chloe’s own that she can see that the moisture from the snowball has smeared Beca’s mascara, making her look more raccoon-ish than usual.

After a moment, Beca realizes where her hand is and yanks it out so hastily than her glove is left behind. 

“Shit, sorry,” she says, a blush rising on her cheeks as she steps back. 

Chloe fishes out the glove and hands it back to Beca. “You know, if you wanted to feel be up, you could’ve just asked,” she says, throwing in a wink at the end.

Chloe pauses to watch the way Beca’s mouth opens and closes like it always does when she’s flustered, blush deepening, before walking away.

Another thing about Chloe Beale: she always wins.


	324. Chapter 324

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stacie's snakes prompt the third?

Beca’s phone rings at 6:37 am on a Tuesday.

“Son of a bitch,” she grumbles, fumbling blindly for it. The caller ID reads  _Chloe Beale._

“What the fuck, Beale?” Beca snaps into the phone.

“I need your help,” Chloe says, sounding far too perky for the early hour.

“Are you dead or dying?”

“No.” Chloe laughs, and Beca hates the way her heart skips a beat. It’s too goddamn early for this. “Avogadro and Newton’s anniversary is coming up, and—”

“Chloe,” Beca cuts her off, voice low, “did you really call me at the ass-crack of dawn to discuss the anniversary of Stacie’s snakes?”

“It’s in two days, Beca,” Chloe says, as if it’s the most reasonable thing in the world.

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep when you least expect it.”

Chloe laughs again. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Beca intends to say no. She’s absolutely going to tell her to go fuck herself and hang up the phone. She is under no circumstances going to plan an anniversary party for two fucking  _snakes_.

Beca sighs heavily. “Fine.”

She really needs to learn how to say no to Chloe Beale.

* * *

“Do you think they’ll like the gift I got them?” Chloe asks, pouring potato chips into a bowl. 

“I think they’re snakes and they don’t even know who you are,” Beca replies, eating the chips nearly as quickly as Chloe can pour them.

They’re alone in Stacie’s apartment. Stacie is in the biology lab with the snakes and gave them permission to set up while she’s gone. 

It’s important to Chloe that the party be a surprise.

Beca observes as Chloe busies herself placing the gift—a new heating lamp—just so on the counter while singing “Cold Hearted” by Paula Abdul under her breath. It’s wrapped in snake-print wrapping paper. Beca hasn’t the slightest clue where she managed to find it.

It’s all so endearing that Beca has the urge to punch a hole in the wall.

She’s never been great at managing her feelings.

* * *

“SURPRIIIIIISE! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Chloe,” Stacie says breathlessly, pressing the hand that isn’t holding the snakes’ travel terrarium to her heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Do you think they were surprised?” Chloe asks, peering into the terrarium.

“Snakes can’t be surprised,” Beca says, leaning against the counter sipping a hard cider.

“You don’t know that,” Chloe says.

“I’m like ninety-eight percent sure I do.”

“I’m sure they were,” Stacie says genially, gently placing Newton and Avogadro into their tank.

“Now that we’re all here,” Chloe says, clasping her hands behind her back, “I’ve prepared a song in celebration of the deep, unending love between Avogadro and Newton.”

Beca rolls her eyes.

Clearing her throat, Chloe launches into a rousing rendition of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight,” complete with some small choreography.

It’s stupid—who the fuck plans an anniversary party and prepares a song and dance for two snakes that aren’t even legally married? It’s stupid. It’s really, really stupid.

Beca hates that she finds it so damn adorable.

Chloe finishes the song with a flourish of her arms, and Stacie breaks into applause.

Then Beca notices that Chloe is peering at her with concern.

“What?” Beca asks. “Is there something on my face?”

“You’re crying,” Chloe says, hurrying over to Beca.

“What? No I’m not.” Beca reaches up and touches her cheeks to find that they are, in fact, wet. “I  _knew_  I shouldn’t have let Jesse talk me into watching  _The Lion King_  last week.”

Chloe smiles, up close and in Beca’s face, and Beca kind of finds it hard to breathe.

“Beca, I need to tell you something,” Chloe says seriously.

“What? What’s wrong?” Beca asks, mildly alarmed. “Are you actually dying?”

Stacie snorts from across the room, where she’s feeding the snakes.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Chloe assures her. “It’s just… In the spirit of the day, I wanted to tell you…” She trails off, thinking about her words, and Beca finds it kind of unfair to just be left hanging.

“I really like you, Beca. Would you like to go on a date?”

“What?” Beca wheezes.

“I asked if you want to go on a da—”

“Say yes, you dumbass!” Stacie yells from the kitchen.

“Yes,” Beca finally manages to choke out, “but not today.”

Chloe frowns. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to share an anniversary with the snakes,” Beca says.

Beca isn’t prepared when Chloe pounces forward to kiss her and they both nearly crash into the snake tank.

It takes Stacie three hours to stop laughing.


	325. Chapter 325

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a friend, who requested unrequited Bemily (Beca/Emily).

Amy is constantly telling Emily that she’s an idiot, and Emily’s inclined to agree.

Seriously, how delusional does she have to be to fall for a senior?

And not just any senior— _Beca Mitchell._  As in, the Beca Mitchell that led the Bellas to multiple ICCA victories. The Beca Mitchell that’s interning with Residual Heat,  _the_  music production company in the Atlanta area.

The Beca Mitchell that took three weeks to remember Emily’s name.

The Beca Mitchell that has a boyfriend.

God, she’s so stupid.

It’s not like it’s her fault, though. Beca is just… amazing. She’s smart, and funny, and so, so talented. She’s nice to Emily when nobody else is. But Emily loves her imperfections most of all.

Emily loves the Beca that stumbles out of bed at three in the afternoon, last night’s eyeliner making the dark circles under her eyes even more pronounced, fumbling around in the cabinets until she finally locates the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Emily loves the Beca that carries the stress of school and the Bellas in her shoulders, tensing until she snaps at one of the girls during a particularly rough practice. Emily loves the Beca who always apologizes later, after she’s had some time to cool off.

Emily loves the Beca who never cleans her hair out of the shower drain or puts her dishes in the dishwasher, but always complains about Stacie leaving her clothing lying around the house.

Emily has a problem, she knows, so she does what’s always worked for her in the past: she writes a song.

_I got all I need when I got you and I_

_I look around me, and see a sweet life_

_I’m stuck in the dark but you’re my flashlight_

_You’re getting me, getting me, through the night_

When they win the world championships with Emily’s song—Emily’s song about Beca—she thinks it  _must_  be a sign.

She can’t keep sitting on her feelings; she has to tell Beca.

“What’s up?” Beca asks when Emily pulls her aside, into a nook behind the stage. The other Bellas are still celebrating around them, taking photos with the trophy.

“I love you,” Emily blurts.

  
She’s never been good at this.

“I… love you too?” Beca says, looking confused.

“No,” Emily says, “I mean… I’m  _in_  love with you.”

Beca’s silence is deafening. Or maybe that’s just Emily’s heart pounding in her ears.

“Please say something,” Emily whispers.

“I… don’t know what to say,” Beca says, wringing her hands. “I can’t… I don’t feel the same way. I love Jesse.”

Emily can tell Beca is trying to be gentle, and even though her words are crushing, Emily still loves her for it.

“I know,” Emily chokes out, quickly starting to lose her composure. “I just wanted you to know… that the song for you. It was about you.”

“Oh,” Beca says, eyes wide. “Uh, thank you.” She pauses. It’s beautiful,” she adds quietly.

“HEEEEYY CHAMPION!”

Emily and Beca both startle as Jesse practically bowls Beca over with a hug. Beca squeals as he lifts her in the air and spins her around, Emily momentarily forgotten. Emily feels an acute pain in her chest.

Still, Emily is grateful for the interruption.

It allows her to sneak away and cry alone with what little dignity she has left.


	326. Chapter 326

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on this: http://petty-dabbler-of-the-dark-arts.tumblr.com/post/170323248447/moxperidot-my-favorite-thing-about-fbinsa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 100% crack

Chloe has a problem.

Well, actually, she has several problems.

For example, she was assigned to monitor a subject who seems to pose no threat whatsoever to national security—seriously, her most recent Google search was  _how much coffee before you die?_

Which brings her to her most pressing problem: She may have accidentally… broken the fourth wall, so to speak.

God, her boss is going to  _kill_  her.

It’s his fault anyway for assigning her such a cute subject.

Anyway, her subject, Beca, had just gotten blown off by this guy—Theo or Leo or something— _again_ for, like, the third time in two weeks—which is ridiculous, because Beca is smart, and talented, and so,  _so_  pretty. And, okay,  _maybe_  Chloe has kind of a little crush on Beca, but it’s not her fault. It was bound to happen, what with Chloe spending all day every day watching Beca through her computer screen.

And that’s exactly what Chloe was telling her co-worker, Aubrey, when she realizes she’s leaning on the speaker button on her keyboard and  _Beca can hear everything she’s saying_.

She’s  _so_  fired.

“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,” Chloe says frantically, trying to run damage control.

“ _What?!”_ Beca shouts, jumping away from her computer and looking thoroughly freaked out. “What is happening? Who are you? Where are you?”

“Don’t let her know it’s the NSA!” Aubrey hisses from the next cubicle over.

“I do not work for the NSA,” Chloe says. 

Beca is still looking wildly around the room so Chloe adds, “I’m in your computer.”

“Why? Who are you?” Beca demands again, and Chloe can’t help but think about how pretty she looks today.

“My name is Chloe and… I lied. I do work for the NSA,” Chloe admits, and hears Aubrey audibly sigh in frustration from a few feet away.

Beca looks a little bit calmer with that information, but she also looks very confused. “Why is the NSA watching me?”

“We watch everybody,” Chloe says, even though she’s definitely not allowed to say that. 

“Well, I’m not a threat, so can you… not?” Beca asks.

“Nope!” Chloe says cheerfully. “You’re stuck with me. We joke here that our subjects are our soulmates.”

“Oh.” Beca looks like she doesn’t know how to feel about this information. “So there’s no way to get rid of you?”

“Okay, that hurt my feelings,” Chloe says, and Beca actually looks a little apologetic. 

There’s a few moments of silence.

“So you really think I should drop Theo?” Beca asks.

“Like a hot potato,” Chloe replies. “I would never blow you off.”

“And I’d never be able to get away from you,” Beca jokes.

Chloe laughs. “See? Soulmates.”

Beca smiles. “I guess so.”

“So I’ll pick you up at 7?” Chloe asks.

She’s just kidding. Or, at least, that’s what she’ll say as soon as Beca says—

“Uh, okay.” Beca gives an awkward half-smile. “You can tell me how to escape the NSA.”

Chloe blinks. “Okay. Cool.”

“I live at—”

“38 Vanderbilt Street Apartment 4B,” Chloe finishes.

“…Right.”


	327. Chapter 327

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Person B knowing they're undoubtedly going to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they're bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major character death

It’s surprisingly difficult to keep a normal tone while you’re dying.

Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. Maybe the dying part is what’s surprising.

Maybe Chloe’s decision to call Beca instead of 911 is surprising to other people.

It’s not to her.

Maybe hitting black ice and skidding off the road and into a tree is enough surprise for one lifetime.

Chloe just thanks God for her phone’s voice commands, because she’s hit her head so hard all she can see is a bright light that is fading quickly. 

“Call Beca,” Chloe says, voice weak, and then clears her throat a few times.

“Babe?” Bec answers on the first wring, sounding worried. “You should have been home half an hour ago. Did something happen?”

Chloe realizes that she’s probably been sitting here for awhile.

She clears her throat again. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I forgot I had to”—she scrambles for an excuse—“stop at the bank. Long line.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Through the ringing in her ears, Chloe detects worry in Beca’s tone. “Your voice sounds weird.”

“Yeah. Bad connection.” Chloe struggles to keep her breathing under control. It feels like someone is sitting on her chest. “Be home soon. I love you.”

“Okay,” Beca says, sounding skeptical. “Love you too.”

“I love you…” Chloe pauses to catch her breath. She finds that she can’t. “So much.”

And then everything goes black.


	328. Chapter 328

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this tweet: https://twitter.com/WesTayTay/status/952234012994662403

Beca never spends a particularly long time choosing what to wear in the morning.

Freshman year, Amy once described her style as “lesbian grunge,” and Beca’s tried to branch out a bit and buy some things that weren’t just a) plaid or b) black.

Chloe has pretty much become Beca’s fashion consultant, which is helpful, but that also means that Chloe pretty regularly steals Beca’s clothes.

Which is fine, except on the days that they both reach for the same shirt. 

They don’t usually get into  _arguments_  over it, but if Beca plans to wear one of Chloe’s favorite shirts, she’ll be sure to wake up first the next day.

It’s one of those days: Chloe’s always stealing Beca’s favorite soft blue t-shirt, but Chloe gets dressed without seeming to notice that Beca’s wearing it.

So Beca’s not suspicious when Chloe looks at her and frowns and says, “Bec, can I see the shirt you’re wearing?”

Assuming she’s missed some stain or spilled food, Beca pulls it over her head and tosses it to Chloe. 

Wordlessly, Chloe pulls the shirt on, grabs her bag, and heads out the door.

“Bye, babe!” Chloe calls before the door slams shut.

Beca blinks, stunned.

 _That sneaky bitch,_  she thinks.


	329. Chapter 329

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this: http://knedli.tumblr.com/post/169619796816/twenty-gayteen-going-strong

“Doesn’t this all seem a bit sexist to you?”

Jesse rolls his eyes. “It’s not just you. Bumper is auctioning off a kiss, too.”

“That doesn’t count. Nobody’s going to buy that,” Beca says. “He should be auctioning off three hundred feet between himself and the buyer.”

“Plus, it’s for the kids. Don’t you want to help sick kids?”

“Fuck the kids,” Beca mutters under her breath.

“Okay, as your manager who doubles as your publicist, I have to recommend you don’t say that,” Jesse says, gently shoving Beca through the wings until they can see the action on the stage. “Like, ever. To anyone.”

Beca doesn’t know why she agreed to do this dumb fundraiser in the first place. Oh, right—she hadn’t. Jesse had said she would, and she couldn’t very well say,  _uh, never mind, I don’t want to raise money for childhood cancer research_.

“And next up, we have pop artist Beca Mitchell auctioning off a kiss,” the emcee, Stacie, calls into the microphone. 

Cheers erupt across the crowd. Behind her back, Beca flips Jesse off before plastering a fake smile on her face and walking onto the stage.

“Beca will kiss the highest bidder for twenty seconds. No funny business,” Stacie says coyly. “We’ll start the bidding at—”

“Ten thousand dollars!” shouts some guy who looks old enough to be Beca’s dad.

She is going to kill Jesse.

Beca keeps fake-smiling as men practically fall over themselves to bid. She supposes it should be flattering, but it doesn’t feel that way.

Anyway, what kind of person drops this much money for twenty seconds of their life with someone they’ll never speak to again?

The auction starts to slow down around $130,000, and Beca is bracing herself to kiss some guy who looks like he lives in a gym and eats only raw meat.

“One hundred and forty thousand dollars,” someone calls.

Beca’s head snaps up, stunned by the amount. Then, she’s stunned by who’s spending it.

A redheaded woman stands authoritatively with her hands on her hips in the center of the crowd.

Even Stacie seems momentarily taken aback. “$140,000 going once…” Nobody says anything. “Going twice… SOLD!”

Beca feels her heart rate pick up in anticipation as the woman makes her way, check in hand, to the stage. When she gets close enough, Beca notices that she has the bluest eyes she’s ever seen.

“Um. Hi,” Beca says, awkwardly.

The woman smiles. “Hi, I’m Chloe. Beale. Which isn’t really important, but I thought I should introduce myself before we, you know…”

Beca almost rolls her eyes. It’s not like they’re about to have  _sex_. She feels herself start to blush and immediately banishes the thought from her brain.

“Hi. Um. I’m, uh, Beca.”

“I know,” Chloe says, smiling.

 _Duh, you idiot,_  Beca admonishes herself.

“Alright, ladies, you have twenty seconds!” Stacie’s voice cuts into whatever moment Beca is having with Chloe, and the butterflies erupt in Beca’s stomach.

Chloe takes Beca’s face in her hands. Absently, Beca registers how soft they are.

Distantly, Beca is aware of the men in the audience wolf-whistling and cheering, but it fades away when her lips make contact with Chloe’s. They’re soft, but firm. They move confidently. Everything about Chloe is confident. 

It’s not fireworks. Fireworks are cliché. It’s warmth, spreading outwardly from Beca’s chest to her limbs and the pit of her stomach. It’s excitement; it feels like teetering on the edge of a cliff. But, somehow, it feels like home. 

It isn’t until Beca feels a hand on her shoulder that she realizes the twenty seconds are up.

Stacie says something, but Beca doesn’t hear it. She looks up at Chloe, whose cheeks are red and is breathing hard, like she can’t get enough air. Beca feels the same way.

Chloe just winks and slips a piece of paper into the front pocket of Beca’s jeans before exiting the stage the way she entered.

Once she’s back in the wings, Beca opens the paper. It’s a phone number— _Chloe’s_  phone number. Beca realizes Chloe had to write it down before she even made her bid.

Beca smiles to herself, and doesn’t even give Jesse grief when she passes him.

Stupid, confident Chloe. 


	330. Chapter 330

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief VDay drabble.

Beca’s certain she’s lost her mind.

That’s literally what Stacie had said: “Have you lost your mind?”

And she kind of regrets asking Stacie to go lingerie shopping, but Beca’s determined to do something special this year to make up for last year.

(It’s not her fault that she didn’t realize that Valentine’s Day is supposed to be  _special_. Her high school boyfriend had spent the day playing video games and insisted that Beca leave him alone.)

So that’s how she ended up in a Victoria’s Secret with Stacie’s hands on her boobs.

“You have to make sure it fits you  _properly_ , Beca,” Stacie says, in the same tone Beca uses when she tells her toddler cousin that he has to use the bathroom  _before_  they get in the car, Nathan.

“Can you figure that out without your hands all over my boobs?” Beca asks exasperatedly, cheeks tinted red and eyes looking at the ceiling.

“Nope.” Stacie shifts Beca’s breasts a bit more. “This one looks good. What do you think?”

It’s red, and lacy, and has a little bow between her breasts and it’s probably not anything Beca would ever pick out on her own. “Do you think Chloe will like it?”

Stacie laughs. “Chloe will  _love_  it.” She winks and licks her lips in a way that makes Beca uncomfortable. “Now, for matching underwear—”

“Uh-uh,” Beca cuts her off. “You’re not staying in here for that.”

Stacie huffs and hands Beca several lacy thongs. “Fine. I’ll be waiting outside.”

Beca turns back to the mirror once Stacie is out of the dressing room and the door is securely locked. She grabs a pair of underwear and slips it on, admiring the ensemble.

“Oh, and we can go get waxes afterwards! I have a coupon,” Stacie calls from outside.

Beca really hopes Chloe likes this.

* * *

“Flowers, chocolates, wine…” Beca mutters to herself as she arranges the gifts she got for Chloe on her bed. Once she’s sure that the stuffed bear and the flowers are lined up perfect, Beca arranges herself on the bed. On a second thought, Beca takes the red bow stuck to the bear and sticks it on her head.

She’s fairly certain she heard Chloe’s voice downstairs, and this is usually when Chloe gets out of class, so she unlocks the door. It isn’t long before she hears footsteps on the stairs.

The doorknob rattles and the door opens.

“Hey Beca, do you have—augh!”

Emily covers her eyes and backs up as Beca scrambles to cover herself.

“Legacy!” Beca shouts, her face heating.

“Sorry!” Emily whips the door closed.

Beca barely has time to catch her breath before the door opens again. 

“What’s going on?” Chloe asks. She looks beautiful, even though she’s only wearing jeans and a sweater and her hair is in a messy bun, tousled by the wind outside.

Beca probably looks a mess; the bow is askew, the bear has fallen over, and her bra is crooked. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Beca says weakly.

Chloe stares at her for a moment before she bursts out laughing. 

“I’m sorry,” Beca says, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I really wanted it to be perfect and I got chocolates and wine and Stacie and I got waxes and—”

“Shh.” Chloe puts a finger to Beca’s lips before replacing it with a short but tender kiss. “It  _is_ perfect. You’re perfect.” She smiles, and the tension in Beca’s shoulders melts away. “You look beautiful,” Chloe says softly, in that way that Chloe  _says_  things and Beca always believes her.

Beca looks down at her scantily clad self and tugs at the button of Chloe’s pants. “Want to even the score a little, Beale?”

“I would be happy to.” Chloe pulls the sweater over her head. Then she pauses. “Did you say that you and Stacie got waxes?”

“We’re not talking about it,” Beca says.

“Okay,” Chloe says, laughing. She looks in Beca’s eyes. “I love you.”

“Ew,” Beca says.

She supposes she deserves it when Chloe knocks her upside the head with the bear.


	331. Chapter 331

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another VDay drabble

Beca’s never  _really_  understood the whole “fancy lingerie” thing.

For one thing, it’s wildly overpriced for the actual amount of fabric she’s receiving, and she usually can’t justify the money to herself when there’s a shiny pair of noise-canceling headphones in the window of the Bose store next to the Victoria’s Secret.

Secondly, it seems a bit undignified. What’s the point of sequined, lacy mesh that doesn’t actually  _cover_ anything?

And lastly—and most importantly—it’s just going to end up on the floor in three minutes, anyway.

But this is apparently a thing that girls do—at least, according to Stacie—so Beca begrudgingly slaps down $50 the day before Valentine’s Day.

In retrospect, perhaps, maybe she shouldn’t take advice from Stacie regarding these kinds of matters.

She and Chloe aren’t dating, exactly. They’re in a weird limbo between friends and girlfriends that also involves occasional sex. Beca isn’t sure how to get out—she isn’t even sure if she  _wants_  to get out quite yet.

The house is mostly quiet on Valentine’s Day evening, for which Beca is grateful because it means that Chloe can run out and grab them Chinese takeout without all of the Bellas trying to steal their food.

It also means that Beca can slip into the stupid red lace panties and bra she’d bought and lay herself down on the bed, heart hammering as she waits for Chloe to return.

Finally, Beca hears footsteps on the stairs leading up to her room.

“Hey, Chloe said that you guys got food—GAH!”

Except the person who appears isn’t Chloe—it’s Emily, who lets out a shriek like she’s been stabbed. 

Beca freezes as Emily claps a hand over her eyes and shouts, “I’m sorry!” over and over as she turns and runs down the stairs.

Suddenly, Chloe appears. “What happened? I heard—Oh.”

The bag of food slips out of Chloe’s grip and hits the carpet with a soft  _thud_.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” is all Beca can manage.

Chloe doesn’t say anything; she licks her lips and steps forward, gaze sweeping over Beca’s body hungrily. 

Beca shudders.

It turns out that Stacie doesn’t give out half-bad advice


	332. Chapter 332

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little New Year's drabble

Beca doesn’t really understand New Year’s Eve celebrations.

They’re just counting down the minutes until a new page on the calendar. Time itself, not to mention, is just a construct after all and doesn’t symbolize anything concrete.

When she shared this viewpoint with Chloe, she was forced to participate in taking shots.

So now she’s drunk—which, actually, makes the entire thing thoroughly more tolerable.

It helps that Chloe is drunk, too, and therefore more handsy than usual.

Said person is currently practically sitting in Beca’s lap as they watch the ball prepare to drop on the television. The air is thick with body heat and alcohol and electrified with excitement. 

Beca’s skin sparks where it brushes against Chloe’s, her heart thrumming in her chest. She could do without the shouting of “Ten! Nine! Eight!” in her ear, but she’s not particularly complaining.

Because then Chloe is gripping Beca’s shirt in her fist and pulling her in for a sloppy kiss. The air becomes electrified, and the sparks intensify until Beca’s almost worried that she’ll combust.

Beca shifts a little, tilts her head, parts her lips. Feels Chloe smile. 

She’s breathing heavily by the time they finally part; she almost feels tired.

“Wow,” Chloe says, panting as well, “I feel like I’ve been kissing you all year.”

Beca shoves at her. “Shut the fuck up.”

Beca understands New Year’s Eve celebrations a little bit better now.


	333. Chapter 333

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written in 2013 inspired by that Instagram post of Anna Kendrick and Brittany Snow in a store that was playing "Titanium"

“Okay, how do you like this one?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Beca replies without looking up from her phone.

“You’re not even looking.”

Beca glances up briefly to see Chloe looking mildly annoyed, hands on her hips, clutching a couple of bras on hangers in her right fist. “I’m looking.” She flutters her eyelashes innocently as her left hand continues to swipe across the screen of her phone.

Chloe throws her hands up exasperatedly. “I thought lingerie would be the one section of the mall you’d enjoy.”

Beca blinks. “Maybe if you tried  _on_  the lingerie I’d be more interested. Or just bought it and we can find out if we like it at home.” She raises an eyebrow suggestively.

Chloe shakes her head, muttering something about “one-track mind” as she returns the bras to their rack. Then she freezes, eyes growing wide. “Beca,” she hisses, clapping an hand around the smaller girl’s arm.

Beca manages to grab her phone before it clatters to the ground. “What? What’s wrong?” she asks, looking around. All appears to be well.

“Do you not hear that?” Chloe’s still stage-whispering, even though they are in a secluded section of the store.

Beca strains her ears for anything abnormal. “I don’t hear anything.” She glances back to Chloe, who looks a bit red and uncomfortable. “You okay? You look kinda hot or—”

Oh.

“ _Oh_.” Beca finally notices the music that is playing, albeit faintly. A particular song.

Titanium.

“Is this really happening right now?” Beca wonders aloud as Chloe haphazardly stuffs another bra she’d been looking at back on the rack.

“We should go,” she says, tightening her grip on Beca’s arm and tugging her toward the exit of the store.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait,” Beca says, grinding her heels into the floor. Chloe turns back to her with an agitated look that is a bit too pleading to be intimidating.

“What?” she demands, still glancing around as though everyone in the mall is privy to her… situation.

“Can we get that red lace matching set you were looking at first?”


	334. Chapter 334

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sentence prompt meme: "I covered your bed in rose petals for science. Take a look and tell me if it’s too much."

Chloe gets home to Beca anxiously waiting outside of her closed bedroom door.

“Is something wrong?” Chloe asks, noting that Beca is wringing her hands, which she only does when she’s nervous.

“No,” Beca says, a little bit too loudly.

Chloe quirks an eyebrow. “Then can I go in my room?”

“Okay, so…” Beca runs her hand through her hair—another nervous tic. “I covered your bed in rose petals for science. Take a look and tell me if it’s too much.”

“For science?” Chloe repeats.

“Yes,” Beca says, hand fluttering over the doorknob. She repeats, “It’s for science,” before opening the door.

Beca wasn’t lying when she said she’d  _covered_  Chloe’s bed in rose petals. Seriously—she can barely see her comforter underneath the blanket of petals.

“Wow,” Chloe says. “That’s… something.”

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” Beca asks, sounding disappointed.

“It’s a lot,” Chloe says gently, although she still doesn’t know  _why_  Beca’s done this. 

Beca’s face falls. “So you don’t like it?”

“This was for me?” Chloe asks, confused.

Beca’s eyes widen, like she hadn’t meant to let that slip, before taking a deep breath. “Yes.”

“It’s a very sweet gesture,” Chloe says, trying to get that  _look_  off Beca’s face. “But… why?”

“Well, Valentine’s Day is coming up and I was kind of maybe hoping you’d want to go on a date?” Beca says, her words rushed.

 _For science?_  Chloe almost jokes, but she knows Beca’s too vulnerable right now for Chloe to poke fun at her. 

Chloe is also so touched that Beca went through all this trouble—for  _her_ —that she feels she owes it to Beca to take this seriously.

So Chloe gets straight to the point: she gently cups the back of Beca’s neck and presses a kiss to her lips.

It’s short—hardly two full seconds—but Beca looks almost dazed when Chloe pulls away to gauge her reaction.

“It was a yes or no question,” Beca says after a moment, as if suddenly remembering that she asked a question at all.

Chloe laughs. “ _Yes_ , you dork.”

“Oh, good,” Beca breathes, while Chloe pulls out her phone and snaps a few photos of the bed.

“I hope you don’t mind that I put this on Instagram,” Chloe says, tapping at her phone screen.

“What? No!” 

“Too late!” Chloe chirps, pecking Beca on the cheek. “Now all 654 of my followers know what a big softie you are.”

“I hate you,” Beca grumbles, but Chloe has a bed full of rose petals that indicate otherwise.


	335. Chapter 335

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You think I’m beautiful?” + Bemily

Emily’s mom is always telling her she’s pretty, and Emily guesses she agrees.

She likes her face, although sometimes she feels like her eyes are too small, and being one of the tallest people in her grade since she was twelve hadn’t been easy.

Most people, Emily’s found, are reluctant to date someone who towers over them.

So while Emily appreciates when people call her pretty, she longs to be seen as more than that—beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, even, like Chloe or Stacie.

Emily’s getting ready to go to the party in DJ Khaled’s suite, but she can’t seem to get her makeup right, and she worries that her heels are making her  _too_  tall, and—

The door bangs open, startling Emily out of her spiral.

“Em, do you have a spare— _wow_.” Beca stops short, staring at Emily, standing anxiously in front of the mirror.

“Is it too much?” Emily asks, pulling at the fabric of her dress. 

“No, you—wow,” Beca says again, shaking her head. “You look beautiful.”

Emily blinks. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Beca’s face softens, and Emily thinks she sees a little bit of pink dusting her cheeks. “Of course I do,” she says quietly.

“Thank you,” Emily says, her stomach feeling fluttery. She feels the urge to take Beca’s hand in her own, but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

Beca seems to read Emily’s mind, because she reaches out and squeezes Emily’s hand, just once, before letting go and clearing her throat, as if suddenly remembering why she came into Emily’s room in the first place.

“Do you, um, have a spare safety pin?” Beca asks.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Emily says, rummaging in one of the pockets of her suitcase. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Beca says, taking the pin and turning to go. She gives Emily a soft smile before leaving.

Emily looks at herself in the mirror again, suddenly finding that she can’t find anything to pick apart.

All she was missing was the dopey grin on her face.


	336. Chapter 336

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want you” with Bechloe

Chloe Beale acts like a drunk person when she’s sober, so drunk Chloe is truly a sight to see. 

It’s funny to an extent, until Beca has to actually make sure Chloe gets home safely, which can be a struggle.

Beca’s managed to shuttle Chloe into the house, but they’ve hit a road block at the stairs.

“But there’s so  _many_  of them,” Chloe whines, leaning heavily on Beca’s shoulder. The skin-on-skin contact is making Beca feel warm despite the cool fifty-degree night.

Oh, yeah—Chloe decided she didn’t need her shirt about fifteen seconds after they stumbled through the door. Beca’s confused as to why Chloe whipped it around above her head and threw it across the room with a “WOO!” like she was tossing it into a crowd of screaming fans, but she’s not sure she wants to know the answer.

“There’s literally twelve of them,” Beca grumbles, trying (and failing) to nudge Chloe up the first step.

“Too many,” Chloe says definitively.

“Come  _on_ ,” Beca cajoles. “I just want to go to bed.” The few drinks she’s had isn’t helping her patience, and she feels a headache starting to come on.

“You should sleep in my bed,” Chloe says right in Beca’s ear, her warm breath making the hair on the back of Beca’s neck stand on end.

“I will if you go up the goddamn stairs,” Beca tells her, and to her relief Chloe begrudgingly starts to climb the stairs.

Once they reach the top, Chloe unceremoniously drags Beca into her room, practically collapsing on top of her when they reach the bed. 

“I want you,” Chloe breathes.

Beca freezes, feeling a rush of heat run from the top of her head to her toes. “Uh, what?”

“I want you,” Chloe repeats, and Beca is suddenly aware of the way Chloe’s hands are pulling at the hem of her shirt.

Beca would be lying if she said she hadn’t fantasized about Chloe saying those exact words to her for the better part of the past year—but Chloe was always sober in her fantasies.

Beca swallows. “You’re drunk, Chlo.”

“So?” Chloe pouts, her face close enough to Beca’s for Beca to see the way her pupils are dilated—and also to smell the alcohol on her breath.

“So ask me again in the morning,” Beca says, carefully extricating herself from underneath Chloe.

“Fine. I will,” Chloe says definitively, muttering something that sounds like  _such a gentleman_  before rolling over and promptly falling asleep.

There’s a beat of silence before Beca hears what sounds like a giggle from the hallway. She pokes her head out of the door to see Stacie and Amy in the hallway looking very amused.

“I want you,” Amy says in a high-pitched voice, animatedly draping herself on Stacie. 

“Fuck you,” Beca bites.

“Ask me again in the morning,” Stacie imitates.

Beca hates living with her friends sometimes.


	337. Chapter 337

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you." + Bemily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting a lot of Bemily (Beca/Emily) prompts, so I added that pairing to the tags. More will be coming.

Emily can’t decide if having a crush on a senior is ambitious or just stupid.

Beca is kind of impossible  _not_  to fall in love with, though.

She’s smart, and witty, and  _gorgeous_ , and has better musical instincts than anyone Emily’s ever met.

(Don’t even get her started on how hot Beca looks with her hair up in a messy bun, headphones over her ears as she works.)

Emily even loves Beca’s volatile moodiness (she’s  _passionate_ ).

It’s one of those days when Emily is at the island in the kitchen, doing homework, when Beca storms into the room, rummages through the cupboard, and starts irritatedly shoving Cheez-Its into her mouth.

“Everything okay?” Emily asks hesitantly. Beca reminds her of the cat she had growing up: when she reached out to pet him, there was equal chance he would purr or try to bite her hand.

“Men are lesser evolved creatures and women should rise up and kill them all,” Beca gripes around a mouthful of Cheez-Its.

“Uh,” Emily says, not sure how to respond. “Did something happen?”

“I was supposed to meet a guy for coffee and he never showed,” Beca confides, her cheeks red, like she’s embarrassed about it. Or maybe just too vigorously chewing Cheez-Its.

Emily frowns. “That’s terrible.” 

Silently, she vows that if she ever comes across this guy, she’ll punch him in the face.

“That’s life.” Beca shrugs, putting down the box of Cheez-Its. “I guess I should get used to it.” She looks down and laughs a little, like she always does when she’s said something a little too revealing or self-deprecating.

“Don’t say that,” Emily says forcefully, sliding off her stool and moving to touch Beca gently on the arm. “It’s not true. I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you.”

Beca looks up, eyes wide with that deer-in-headlights look she gets when someone genuinely compliments her. 

“Thanks,” she says softly, cheeks pinking slightly.

Making Beca a little bit flustered shouldn’t feel like an accomplishment, but Emily can’t help but feel a little bit proud.

Now she just has to work up the nerve to actually ask Beca out.


	338. Chapter 338

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bemily when Emily gets all the Bellas the big pack of Valentine cards and they think they all got the same one but only Beca’s says “Will you be my Valentine?”

Emily’s given Valentines to her friends every Valentine’s Day since she was in kindergarten.

She used to make handmade cards every year, but with Bellas practices and schoolwork she just hasn’t had the time, so she goes to Target and picks up a box of Valentines with kittens on them and some heart-shaped lollipops.

It takes her approximately two minutes to scribble everyone’s names on the cards, sign her own, and tape a lollipop to the back, but when she gets to Beca’s, she hesitates.

Summoning up her nerve, she quickly scrawls  _Will you be my Valentine?_  on it and quickly gathers up the cards and heads downstairs.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Bellas!” Emily says brightly, handing a card to each girl, making sure she hands the correct one to Beca.

“We’re purrfect together,” Chloe reads. “Cute. Thanks, Em!”

“Hey, mine says that, too,” Stacie says.

“I know they’re not the most original,” Emily concedes. 

She sneaks a peek at Beca out of the corner of her eye in time to see Beca read the card, frown, and promptly leave the room. A minute later, Emily hears the front door open and shut.

It feels like a punch to the gut.

Emily briefly considers following Beca, but instead decides to go upstairs to her room and lie down.

* * *

An hour later, Emily’s watching a sad episode of Grey’s Anatomy in her bed, like she always does when she wants to feel sorry for herself, when there’s a knock at her door. 

“Come in,” Emily calls, and is surprised when Beca appears in the doorway.

“Hey,” Beca says, rubbing at the back of her neck awkwardly. “Sorry for bolting earlier. I needed to go get this. She unceremoniously shoves a small Valentine with an ice cream cone on it into Emily’s hands.

“You’re cool,” Emily reads. She forces a smile. “Uh, thanks.”

“Turn it over,” Beca tells her. 

Emily flips over the card. On the back, Beca’s just written  _yes_.

Emily’s smile morphs into a wide grin. “Really?”

“Would I write lies on a Valentine meant for children?” Beca asks, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Emily tosses aside her computer and bounds over to Beca to wrap her in a hug. She wants to kiss Beca, but hesitates. “Can I—”

Beca rises up onto her toes and presses a peck to Emily’s lips.

 

 


	339. Chapter 339

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe prompt where they were supposed to go out for Valentine's Day but Beca gets sick so Chloe sets up a date at home to surprise Beca?

Beca doesn’t particularly care about Valentine’s Day.

She doesn’t  _dislike_ it, but it’s not a particularly special day for her. She can go out to dinner with Chloe any day of the year.

Chloe, though—Chloe  _loves_  Valentine’s Day.

So when Beca comes down with a nasty cold the day before, she truly feels bad that they have to cancel their plans to go out to a nice restaurant.

Chloe says it’s fine, but Beca knows she’s probably disappointed.

Beca has a test she can’t miss, so she drags her ass to class, and when she gets home that evening, all she wants to do is lie down and not move.

The first thing Beca notices when she opens the door to her room is that it smells like cinnamon.

Then she notices that there’s takeout Chinese food and a bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups on her nightstand beside three scented candles. And in her bed is Chloe, surrounded by a fuzzy blanket.

“What is all this?” Beca says, dropping her bag on the floor.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Chloe answers, patting a spot next to her on the bed. “Just.. toned down.”

Beca crawls in next to her girlfriend, and sees that Chloe has Brooklyn Nine-Nine queued up on her laptop.

“Thank you,” Beca says, giving Chloe a hug instead of kissing her in a likely pointless effort not to spread her germs.

“And if you’re feeling up to it later, I’m wearing  _really_ sexy underwear,” Chloe breathes in Beca’s ear.

Beca shivers.

Fuck not spreading her germs.

 


	340. Chapter 340

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bemily when Emily tries to be funny so she gives Beca the card that says “BONE!!!???”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find the card here: http://amanaryouserious.tumblr.com/post/170873384728/rhydenx-this-is-the-only-valentine-im-making

Emily loves making Beca laugh.

Well, she tries, at least—she and Beca have very different senses of humor.

“You’re about as funny as a doormat,” Amy once told her.

Emily disagrees, but half the time when Beca cracks jokes Emily has to Google them on her phone under the table to understand them.

However, who doesn’t love Brooklyn Nine-Nine?

She finds it by accident, scrolling through her Tumblr dashboard one night before going to sleep: a photo of Captain Holt superimposed on a pink background, with the word  _BONE!!!?????_  in bold black lettering.

Emily immediately saves it to her phone and smiles to herself.

Beca  _has_  to appreciate this.

* * *

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Emily says, handing Beca the card. 

Beca looks at it for a long moment. “I don’t get it.”

“What do you mean?” Emily frowns.

Beca taps the card. “Is this a reference to something?”

 _Oh no_ , Emily thinks. She hadn’t accounted for this.

“You’ve never seen Brooklyn Nine-Nine?” Emily asks incredulously.

“No,” Beca says, shrugging.

Emily grabs Beca by the hand and drags her over to the kitchen island, where her laptop is sitting open to her American Literature assignment. 

“We’re fixing this right now,” Emily says, minimizing the document and queueing up the first episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. “Sit.”

Beca blinks. “Uh, okay.” She sits on the stool next to Emily’s, scooting in close to see the screen. 

Emily sneaks glances at her as they watch, pleased.

Her Valentine may have fallen flat, but now she has an excuse to spend more time with Beca—four and a half seasons’ worth, to be exact—so who’s the real winner here?


	341. Chapter 341

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bemily when Emily forgets to put on lipstick right before the Bellas go on so she kisses Beca so she can have a little of hers?

The thing about performing with Aubrey again is that she has not calmed down  _at all_.

Beca’s having flashbacks to one time during her freshman year when Aubrey berated her for seven full minutes because her bun was not “up to regulation standards,” which Beca is still certain is not a real thing.

Beca is worried about Emily, who’s never been exposed to the stress-induced kraken Aubrey becomes right before performances. 

True, Flo hasn’t experienced it before, either, but she’s a tiger, whereas Emily is more of a newborn kitten.

“Emily!” Aubrey barks, right before they’re about to go on to perform “Cheap Thrills” by Sia.

Beca immediately recognizes the tone, and moves between the two of them protectively.

“Yes?” Emily answers brightly, oblivious.

“You don’t have any lipstick on!” Aubrey hisses.

“Oh, shoot,” Emily says with a shrug, failing to realize the gravity of the situation. 

“Bellas, you’re on!” one of the stagehands tells them, gesturing to the stage with his clipboard.

Aubrey has a crazy glint in her eye, so Beca does the only thing she can think of—

Beca rocks up onto her toes and presses her lips firmly against Emily’s, then pulls back to see if it worked.

“See? Problem solved,” Beca says, nudging Aubrey towards the stage.

“You know, I have a tube of lipstick in my boobs,” Amy says, gesturing to her cleavage.

“Whatever,” Beca says, rolling her eyes.

Emily’s lips  _do_ look redder, but so does the rest of her face.


	342. Chapter 342

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe + "Pull my hair again and this is going to get awkward real fast."

Beca is bored.

Well, Beca is bored most of the time—but Bellas practice with Aubrey is a particular kind of boring.

It's the kind of boring that makes her act like a nine-year-old boy with a crush.

Never mind the fact that there is some truth in that metaphor.

It's really Aubrey's fault for allowing Beca to sit behind Chloe.

So far Beca's tickled the back of Chloe's neck, kicked her in the heels, and poked her behind the ear, and Chloe has continued to ignore her.

Beca has now moved on to pulling Chloe's hair.

She doesn't pull it hard—just a tug, every couple of minutes.

It's so juvenile, but Beca  _really_ doesn't care about proper vocal warmups or whatever Aubrey's been talking about for the last twenty minutes.

It turns out that even Chloe Beale has a limit, though, because—

"Pull my hair again and this thing is going to get awkward real fast," Chloe hisses at her, a little too loudly to be discreet.

"Kinky," Amy chimes in.

"I feel like it's too common to really be a kink," Stacie says, looking up from her nails.

"I'm not—I don't—" Beca stammers, feeling everyone's eyes on her.

"I mean, if that's what you were into, you could've just asked," Chloe says with a wink.

Beca feels every part of her body turn red, partly due to the unwanted attention but mostly due to the barrage of inappropriate thoughts that have all popped into her head at once.

Aubrey gives Beca a glare that can only mean  _you're doing extra cardio, bitch_ , and Beca sinks down in her chair a little.


	343. Chapter 343

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write a funny Bemily fic where Beca and Emily are alone in the Bella house and they get drunk together?

Beca’s not sure how she ended up alone in the house with Emily on a Tuesday night.

Oh, wait. She remembers: The girls wanted to go see some dumb movie that Emily had already seen and Beca said she’d rather chew off her own arm.

That’s how it happened.

Usually, Tuesday nights are Beca and Chloe’s get-drunk-and-watch-Food-Network nights, and maybe Beca is a little bit bitter that she’s been ditched, but Emily seemed like a fine substitute and Beca has a new bottle of tequila she’s been saving.

Fleetingly, she wonders if she can get arrested for furnishing alcohol to a minor if the minor pours her own shots.

“Whoa there, Legacy,” Beca cautions when she sees Emily fill nearly half her cup with liquor.

“I’m having my favorite drink,” Emily says, moving the bottle out of Beca’s reach. “It’s called a lot.”

Beca can’t remember how much she’s had to drink, but she’s only filled with rage when someone on Chopped forgets an ingredient when she’s truly hammered.

“You fucking idiot!” Beca shouts at the television when Steve from Reno realizes he forgot to incorporate escarole into his dish.

“How hard is it to put escargot in your dumb soup?” Emily concurs.

“Escarole,” Beca corrects.

“Yeah, that.” Emily drains what’s left in her cup.

Beca’s always been a sucker for a tragic backstory, but she was  _not_  prepared for the winner to share his prize money with the runner-up so she could visit her dying grandmother in France.

“Beca, are you okay?” Emily asks worriedly. “You’re crying.”

“Me? Crying?” Beca deflects, wiping at her eyes. 

Emily scoots across the couch to sit next to Beca, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. 

Beca should’ve guessed Emily would be an affectionate drunk, but the kiss Emily presses to her cheek catches her off guard. 

Beca’s face heats. “Uh, thanks.”

“Shh,” Emily says.

After a couple of minutes, Beca’s arm starts to go numb from the way it’s pinned under Emily’s weight, and Beca tries to wiggle out of Emily’s grasp. But Emily—

Emily is asleep.

Beca finds it’s not a bad idea.

Her last thought before she drifts off is that falling asleep in Emily’s arms feels indescribably  _right_.


	344. Chapter 344

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write a minific with it including "you're such a tease" or something along the lines of that?

Beca can’t remember whose idea it was to get an Amazon Alexa for the Bellas’ house, but it was a bad one.

Most of the girls use it for music-related things, but some (namely Amy) ask Alexa to do various things just to see what the response is.

And yes, asking Alexa for three pounds of cocaine is funny  _once_ , but Beca actually finds it quite helpful when she’s making mixes.

Alexa, though, has become a hot commodity in the house.

(There have been more than one fights over who gets to use it.)

Beca’s using Alexa in her room working on a new mix when Chloe appears in the doorway.

“Hey,” Beca says, looking up from her laptop. 

“Hey.” Chloe saunters over to Beca’s bed and sits down next to Beca. She has the devilish smirk on her face that makes Beca’s heart beat faster.

“Can I help you?” Beca asks.

“Yeah,” Chloe says, pushing Beca’s laptop gently off her lap and moving to straddle Beca. “I think you can.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Beca breathes, hands automatically finding Chloe’s hips. 

Her heart flutters when Chloe dips her head to kiss Beca. Beca will never get over the fact that  _Chloe Beale_ is her girlfriend.

Beca can feel her temperature starting to rise as Chloe’s hands begin to wander.

And then the warmth and weight in her lap is suddenly gone.

Beca opens her eyes to see Chloe grab the Alexa off her nightstand and head for the door.

“You’re such a tease,” Beca complains.

“But you love me,” Chloe says, turning to wink at Beca before she heads into the hallway. “Alexa, play my victory playlist.”

Beca can only roll her eyes as the sound of Alexa playing “All I Do Is Win” gets fainter.

 

 


	345. Chapter 345

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death, that's my prompt. Just death for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was sent to me by a friend as a joke but I decided to take it seriously.
> 
> Warnings for major character death.

It’s funny how quickly someone can die.

It takes nine months for a life to begin, but only a fraction of a second for a life to end.

And that’s all it took—just a fraction of a second. A blink of an eye.

Was there time for Beca to think before the car plowed into her as she crossed the street? What did she think about? Did she think of Chloe?

Or maybe she didn’t see the car coming. 

Chloe knows she’ll never be able to stop seeing it, burned into the backs of her eyes when she closes them.

She’s not sure how long she sits in her parked car, staring off into space, before she remembers she has somewhere to be.

She has to identify Beca’s body.

Numbly, Chloe flips through the radio stations as she cruises down the highway, finding the silence in her car suffocating.

Her hand pauses on a station that happens to be playing “Titanium.”

Instantly, Chloe’s eyes flood with tears, and painful sobs start to wrack her body.

Her hands slip off the wheel as she caves in on herself, thinking of nothing but the searing burn in her chest.

In the end—her end—it only takes a fraction of a second.


	346. Chapter 346

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe + stillbirth + rage.

For as long as she can remember, Chloe has wanted to be a mom.

She sees parents with their kids in the grocery store or in the park and feels a sense of longing.

She also feels excitement, knowing that soon it’ll be her turn.

The day the pregnancy test comes back positive, Chloe cries tears of joy.

She and Beca spend hours preparing the nursery, or shopping for baby clothes and supplies, or just talking about how happy they’re going to be as a family.

Chloe is going to have a  _family_.

Everything is going to be perfect.

Except it isn’t.

Chloe wakes up in the middle of the night with abdominal pain so intense she at first thinks it’s a nightmare.

But then Beca wakes up and takes Chloe’s sweaty face in her hands and whispers reassurances until Chloe is able to stumble out to the car, leaning heavily on Beca.

The emergency room is eerily quiet, the harsh fluorescent lights making it all seem like an eerie dream.

But Beca’s hand on her back—that’s real. And the gel for the ultrasound is too cold, just like it always is.

Then the doctor puts the wand down, and the world stops.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no heartbeat,” she says.

The words reach Chloe’s ears slowly, like they’re underwater.

She hears her dreams shatter one by one.

Chloe blinks. Nods. Thanks the doctor.

Then she looks at Beca, and her heart breaks.

Beca has one hand pressed over her mouth, like she’s trying to hold in a scream, and her cheeks are stained with tears.

“Baby—” Chloe starts, reaching for her wife, but her word seems to set something off inside Beca.

Beca stands abruptly from her chair, nearly knocking it over, and promptly punches the wall with a scream, making a sizable dent.

Cradling her bleeding hand against her chest, all the energy seems to drain from Beca as she sinks to her knees.

“I’m sorry,” she says simply, looking suddenly like the college freshman that punched a grown man in the face to defend a friend.

It’s what finally makes Chloe start to cry.


	347. Chapter 347

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe argue over dark chocolate.

Beca may not have had the happiest childhood, and she may have had a dysfunctional family, but her parents still instilled morals and values in her.

Don’t steal, for example. Don’t lie or cheat. Don’t punch other kids on the playground, even if they say that Run-DMC sucks.

And that dark chocolate is irrefutably gross.

So when Beca sees Chloe eating a dark chocolate bar, she is appropriate appalled.

(Not just dark chocolate—85 percent cacao, which is borderline unforgivable.)

“ _Why_  are you eating dark chocolate?” Beca asks.

“Uh, because it’s good?” Chloe responds, quirking an eyebrow.

“Dark chocolate is  _gross_ ,” Beca says emphatically. “It’s the brussels sprout of the chocolate bar world.”

“I like brussels sprouts,” Chloe says, taking another bite of chocolate.

“You’re a fucking monster.” Beca crosses her arms over her chest.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Just try a piece.”

“Nope,” Beca says, waving her finger. “That’s not how I want to die.”

“You’re not going to  _die_ ,” Chloe tells her. “Just try one tiny piece.”

“No.”

“Please?” Chloe asks, pouting and batting her eyelashes. “For me?”

A beat of silence passes.

“Okay,  _fine_ ,” Beca acquiesces. “Just one tiny piece.”

Chloe breaks off a small piece from the corner of her candy bar and hands it to Beca.

Beca looks down at the chocolate in her hand. It seems innocuous enough. With a deep breath, she pops it in her mouth and bites into it.

And promptly gags before she spits it out into the sink.

“I’m never letting you talk me into anything ever again,” Beca says, pointing an accusatory finger at Chloe.

Chloe rolls her eyes again. “You’re so dramatic.”

“That was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me in my entire life,” Beca says.

“What about your parents’ divorce?” Chloe asks.

Beca glares at Chloe before pinching the bridge of her nose. “ _Must_  you bring that up?”

Chloe cringes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Beca says quietly. She reaches across the kitchen island to squeeze Chloe’s hand. “I know how you can make it up to me.”

“How?” Chloe asks, a hint of a smirk tugging on her lips. 

“You can take off your clothes,” Beca says, heading in the direction of the stairs. Then she turns and points at the chocolate bar. “And you can throw that shit in the trash.”


	348. Chapter 348

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I'd… " Can you do it with Bechloe?

Chloe’s crush on Beca has been an open secret amongst the Bellas for three years.

Well, the secret is open to everyone except Beca, who is about as aware as a doorknob sometimes.

It’s not that Chloe hasn’t  _tried_  to move on—she has. Many times. But nobody wants to be in a relationship with someone who’s clearly in love with someone else.

Chloe did her best—she really did. But she was constantly comparing people to Beca, or talking about Beca, or thinking about Beca while with someone else.

So they’d leave. And honestly? Chloe was never terribly torn up about it.

Being in love with Beca is like breathing to Chloe.

And part of loving Beca— _really_  loving Beca—is not interfering when she dates other people.

So when Beca leaves the house for a date with some guy she met on Tinder, Chloe does what she usually does—gets a glass of wine and watches something funny on Netflix.

She’s in the kitchen pouring the wine when the front door opens and Beca appears, approximately fifteen minutes after she left.

And she looks pissed.

“Bec?” Chloe asks, putting the bottle down. “What happened?”

“He asked to reschedule,” Beca says shortly, picking the bottle up and drinking straight from it. “ _Again_.”

Chloe feels her anger flare up, and she briefly entertains a fantasy of kicking the guy—Leo or Theo or something—in the nose. Then she takes a breath. Beca needs support, not vigilante justice.

Chloe opens her mouth, prepared to say something to the effect of, “That sucks,” or “I’m sorry men are idiots.”

But she finds that what comes out it, “That’s bullshit.” And there’s a bite to it. 

Chloe is tired, suddenly—she’s tired of people not treating Beca right. She’s tired of loving someone who doesn’t love her back. But she’s mostly tired of keeping her true feelings to herself.

Beca looks up, startled.

“You deserve so much better than this,” Chloe says, maintaining eye contact with Beca even though it scares the shit out of her. “If you were mine, I’d never bail on you. I’d tell you that you’re beautiful every day. I wouldn’t complain when you stole my clothes. I would always support you. I would  _love_ you, all of you.”

Chloe’s breathing slightly heavily by the time she’s finished.

Beca stares at her, silent.

“And that’s the tea on that,” Chloe adds.

Beca blinks. “Huh?”

“I saw someone on the Internet say that,” Chloe says. “It means—”

“I  _know_  what it means,” Beca says, briefly pressing her fingers to her temples. “Just—” 

Beca rounds the kitchen island and awkwardly places her hands on Chloe’s shoulders. She looks in Chloe’s eyes, searching for something, for a long moment. Chloe stares back, heart pounding.

And then Beca kisses her.

It’s not fireworks, or sparks, or butterflies. It feels… like coming home.


	349. Chapter 349

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” + Bechloe

Beca hates rain. 

It ruins her hair and makes her eyeliner run, making her look like a wet raccoon (Amy’s words, not hers). And by the time she gets to class or work, her bag is soaked, too.

Plus it makes everyone generally more irritable and difficult to work with.

But not Chloe. Chloe  _loves_  rain.

Beca doesn’t get it.

As soon as it starts to rain, Chloe suddenly wants to leave the house.

Like today, for example: just as it starts to drizzle, Chloe asks Beca to go on a coffee run.

Beca briefly contemplated telling Chloe to go fuck herself before Chloe offered to pay.

Beca supposes she can get a little wet for free coffee.

Except by the time they leave the shop, it’s full-on thunderstorming outside.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Beca mutters, yanking her jacket’s hood over her head.

She’s halfway across the quad when she realizes that Chloe isn’t next to her—she’s about fifteen feet behind her, face and hands turned up towards the sky.

“Beale!” Beca calls. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I want to feel the rain,” Chloe says simply. 

The strands of red hair peeking out from her hood are stuck to her forehead, and water runs off of the end of her nose. If she weren’t so annoyed Beca would find the sight endearing.

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” Beca asks incredulously, closing the gap between them and grabbing Chloe’s hand, intending to lead her home.

But Chloe pulls her hand back, effectively pulling Beca into her, and cups the back of Beca’s neck to guide her into a kiss.

Chloe’s lips are cold and her skin is slick with rainwater, but Beca momentarily forgets her surroundings. Her skin tingles and goosebumps erupt on her arms despite the humidity.

“You are such a cliche,” Beca murmurs when they part.

Chloe just smiles and intertwines their fingers as they start walking again.

 

 


	350. Chapter 350

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Bemily.

Emily is a very light sleeper.

One time, when her brother had a cold, she barely slept for a week because she woke up every time he blew his nose, despite him being in another room.

It’s around three in the morning when her eyes pop open. She sees someone standing over her bed.

She screams.

“Whoa, whoa, Legacy, it’s me!” Beca says, holding out her hands.

“Jesus,” Emily says, holding a hand to her her racing heart and sitting up. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Beca says sheepishly.

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Do you need something or did you just come to watch me sleep?” Emily asks.

“No, no,” Beca says quietly, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “I just… I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Oh no,” Emily says. “I didn’t, like, kill you or something, did I?”

Beca shakes her head, huffing out a soft laugh. “No. You were the one who died, actually.” She bites her lip.

“Oh no,” Emily says again. She reaches out and touches Beca’s hand gently. “It was just a dream, though. I’m right here.”

“I know.” Beca squeezes Emily’s hand in her own for a second. “I should go and let you get some sleep.”

“You can stay here, if you want,” Emily offers. 

She’s not sure why she says it; she and Beca aren’t the touchy-feely kind of friends. But Beca looks so young and small in the dim light of the moon, her eyes still worried as her hands twist the fabric of the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

Beca hesitates, and Emily starts to backpedal. “You don’t have to, obviously—”

“Okay,” Beca says softly, and Emily scoots over to make room in her bed. 

They don’t talk after that, and Beca soon falls asleep with her head in the crook where Emily’s neck meets her shoulder, breathing quietly and steadily.

Emily doesn’t know how long she lies awake staring at the ceiling.


	351. Chapter 351

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's with the box?" + Bechloe

Beca’s “lucky” sneakers have become a point of contention in the apartment.

They’re disgusting: the soles are nearly worn through, and there’s a hole in the toe of the left shoe. The laces are frayed and grey.

But for some reason, Beca refuses to part with them.

Chloe could look the other way when Beca wore them, but their smell is making them intolerable.

One day, Chloe has had enough.

She grabs an old shoebox from her closet and uses tongs from the kitchen drawer to drop the shoes into it for disposal.

Suddenly, the door opens.

“Beca,” Chloe says innocently, holding the box behind her back. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, we finished sooner than I expected,” Beca says, unwinding the scarf from her neck. “What’s with the box?”

 _Shit_. Chloe tries to think of a lie quickly.

“What box?” she asks.

She’s never been great at lying.

“The one you’re holding behind your back.” Beca taps the side of her head. “I mastered object permanence a long time ago, Beale.”

“Uh.” Chloe wracks her brain for some kind of excuse to get out of the apartment before Beca notices her shoes are missing.

Beca’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Do you have my shoes?”

“No?” Chloe tries. 

Beca crosses her arms.

“Okay, yes, it’s your shoes,” Chloe admits. 

“You were going to throw out my lucky shoes?” Beca accuses.

“No, I was going to take them to a nice park where they can die in peace,” Chloe defends. 

“You can’t just throw out my stuff, Chloe!” Beca says, stomping her foot. “What if I threw out your favorite sweatshirt?”

“My sweatshirt doesn’t smell like someone died in it,” Chloe points out. Even through the box, she can still kind of smell the shoes.

Beca presses her fingers into her temples and closes her eyes for a moment.

“Do you know why those are my lucky shoes?” Beca asks quietly.

Chloe blinks. She expected Beca to be yelling by now. “No.”

“I wore them the day that I asked you out, and again on our first date,” Beca says. 

 _Oh_.

“I’m sorry, Beca,” Chloe says, handing her girlfriend the shoebox. “I should have asked you first.”

Beca takes the box, resting a hand on Chloe’s shoulder and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Thank you.”

Beca opens the lid to look at the shoes, as if to check on them. As soon as she does, her nose wrinkles and she drops the box to the floor.

“Oh god,” she says, gagging. “I see what you mean.”

Chloe bursts out laughing. “It’s bad, right?”

“Yeah.” Beca kicks the box in the direction of the door. “I think it’s time to let them die.”

Chloe grabs Beca’s hand and squeezes it. “You know I’ll always be here, right?”

Beca smiles. “Me, too.”


	352. Chapter 352

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I could kiss you right now!” Beca and Emily?

Beca is constantly losing things.

She’ll misplace one of her textbooks and find it a week later behind a couch cushion, or she’ll randomly find her phone charger in her sock drawer.

She really needs to pay closer attention to what she’s doing.

It’s a Tuesday morning and Beca, as usual, is running around the house trying to find something.

Today, she can’t for the life of her find her phone.

“What are you doing?” Emily asks when she comes into the living room and sees Beca on her stomach on the floor, arm under the couch.

“I can’t find my phone,” Beca says, standing up and dusting herself off. 

“Why would it be under the couch?” Emily asks, looking confused.

Beca shrugs. “It somehow ended up there once.”

“I’ll help you look,” Emily offers.

“Thank you,” Beca says, gratefully. “I’m going to check my room again.”

“Okay,” Emily says brightly.

Beca is digging through her closet and praying she’s not going to be late to class when she hears Emily yell, “Found it!” from downstairs.

Beca hurries down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Really? Where?”

Emily points to the refrigerator. “In there next to the orange juice.”

Beca heaves a sigh of relief as she takes her phone out of Emily’s hand. “I could kiss you right now.”

Suddenly, Emily leans forward and kisses Beca chastely on the lips.

Beca blinks. “Oh. Uh. I meant—it’s an expression,” she says, trying to process what just happened.

“Oh,” Emily says, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Beca isn’t sure why she does it, but she stands up on her toes and presses a kiss to Emily’s lips.

Emily immediately shuts up.

They stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“Oh,” Emily says again.

Beca clears her throat awkwardly. “I should get to class.”

Emily just nods.

 _What the fuck just happened?_  Beca wonders as she closes the door behind her.


	353. Chapter 353

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a sentence prompt meme:
> 
> “Just pretend to be my date.” + “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.” + “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” + Bechloe

The problem with there being only one good bar near campus is that one is bound to run into the relentlessly creepy guy you rejected two weeks ago.

Or maybe this is just a personal problem.

Either way, Beca sinks down in her seat as soon as she spots him enter the bar.

Of  _course_  he has to see her anyway and start to make his way over to their table.

She just wanted a quiet night getting hammered with her best friend. Is that so much to ask?

Beca nudges Chloe in the side as he approaches. “Creep alert. Just pretend to be my date.”

She’s already tried “no” with this guy, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

Chloe nods and leans in close to Beca’s side, resting her hand over one of Beca’s. It makes Beca’s heart beat faster, and she suddenly feels too warm.

She puts aside her feelings for later analysis, because creepy guy—she doesn’t even remember his name—is at their table.

“Hey there,” he says, leaning his elbows on the table.

“Hi,” Beca says shortly.

“You look very pretty tonight.” He looks Beca up and down.

“See, babe? I told you that top looks great on you,” Chloe chimes in, pushing a stray lock of Beca’s hair behind her ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Then Chloe leans in close and whispers, “It would look even better on my floor.”

Beca stares at Chloe dumbly, her blood running hot.

“Who are you?” the guy asks rudely, snapping Beca back to reality.

“I’m her date,” Chloe says smoothly, giving him an icy smile. “And you are?”

“You two are dating?” he says, ignoring Chloe’s question. He raises an eyebrow skeptically.

It seems to happen in slow motion—Chloe resting a palm gently on Beca’s cheek, her other hand on Beca’s knee, as she guides their lips together.

Chloe’s lips are soft, and Beca feels a pleasantly warm tingle spread throughout her body. 

The only thought in her head is that they fit together like puzzle pieces.

Distantly, she registers the guy leaving in a huff of annoyance.

“What was that for?” Beca asks when they finally break apart.

“You asked me to help you scare that guy away with our insane hotness,” Chloe says with a shrug. She still hasn’t removed her hand from Beca’s knee.

“That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant,” Beca says.

Chloe smiles, and Beca’s eyes trace the curve of her lips. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” Chloe asks.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me, Beale,” Beca says, distinctly aware of how red her face must be.

“Well, that depends,” Chloe says nonchalantly. “Did it work?”

“Maybe a little,” Beca concedes, fiddling with the beer she’d ordered but hadn’t had a chance to drink. She takes a sip.

“Maybe I can convince you the rest of the way.” Chloe smiles coyly, and, frankly, it’s unfair for one person to be so attractive.

Then she leans in and kisses Beca again, and, yeah, okay—

It’s definitely working.


	354. Chapter 354

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm flirting with you." + Bemily

Beca’s never been great at flirting.

Frankly, she’s never been good at being nice to people in general, but she’s trying.

It’s just that Emily is a nice person, so she expects people to just be nice back.

If you tell Emily she looks pretty today, she’ll say, “Thanks! All of you look beautiful today, too.”

It’s kind of infuriating, and it makes Beca want to (gently) smack Emily upside the head sometimes. 

But that’s kind of the opposite of her objective.

So Beca just tries harder.

* * *

“Hey, let me get that for you,” Beca says as Emily walks through the door, gesturing to the back slung over her shoulder.

“That’s okay,” Emily says with a smile. “I can carry it.”

“I insist,” Beca tells her, all but yanking the heavy bag off of Emily.

“Oh, um, thanks,” Emily says, looking mildly confused for a moment before smiling again.

“That shirt looks really nice on you.” Beca follows Emily as she makes her way to the kitchen. “It really brings out your eyes.”

That’s a lie—the shirt is navy blue, and it really does nothing for Emily’s brown eyes. 

“Thanks!” Emily chirps as she pours herself a glass of iced tea. “I almost wore my purple shirt today—you know, the one with the flowers on it? But I decided on this one instead.”

“What a compelling story,” Beca mutters under her breath.

“What?” Emily asks, looking up.

“Nothing,” Beca says. She changes the subject: “Are you working on any new songs right now?”

Emily scrunches her nose, like she always does when she’s thinking. It’s kind of adorable and Beca hates that she finds it so endearing.

“I’m trying to write one, but I’m just not getting much inspiration for it, you know?” Emily says, resting her elbow on the island counter and resting her chin in her hand.

“Well, maybe I could work on it with you,” Beca offers, leaning forward against the island so her chest is in Emily’s line of sight. “Maybe I could give you the inspiration you need.”

“Okay!” Emily says brightly. “We could all get together in the living room, like a Bella bonding session—”

Beca’s had enough.

“Dammit Emily!” Beca says, smacking her hand against the counter. Emily jumps. “I’m flirting with you.”

Emily stares at her for a moment, eyes wide.

“Sorry for startling you,” Beca apologizes. “I just…” She takes a breath. “I like you, and I’d like to spend more time with you. Alone.”

“Oh my stars,” Emily says finally.

“Is that a yes or a no?” Beca presses, wringing her hands anxiously.

“Yes,” Emily says quickly. “It’s a yes. I like you, too. I just didn’t know—I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

Beca smiles. “I’ve been hinting for weeks, but you’re kind of impossible to flirt with.”

“Sorry,” Emily says, but she’s smiling, too. “You’re not that great at it, either.”

Beca just rolls her eyes.


	355. Chapter 355

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t keep doing this.” + “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” + “I don’t know why I’m crying.” + “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” + Bechloe

Beca awakes to a hand gently shaking her shoulder.

“Huh? What?” she says, blinking.

“It’s me,” Chloe whispers.

Beca looks up. Her eyes are still adjusting to the darkness, but she can just make out Chloe’s outline against the light coming into her window from the moon.

It’s not the first time Chloe’s woken her up in the middle of the night just to cuddle, or with a flimsy excuse like, “Your bed’s warmer.”

“Chloe,” Beca groans. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Then she hears a sniffle.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe says softly. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh,” Beca says, moving over in her bed to make room for Chloe. She pats the space next to her and Chloe climbs in under the covers.

“I’m okay. I’m right here,” Beca reassures her, pushing a stray lock of hair out of Chloe’s face. 

“Thanks,” Chloe says, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Beca reaches out and wipes a tear from Chloe’s cheek, letting her hand rest there for a moment longer than necessary.

“Was it scary?” Beca asks, and Chloe nods. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Chloe shakes her head. “I just want to stop thinking about it.”

Beca squeezes Chloe’s hand in her own. “I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Chloe smiles a little. “Okay.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Turn over,” Beca says, shoving at Chloe’s shoulder. 

“What?” Chloe frowns, looking confused.

“Just turn over,” Beca insists.

Chloe complies with a small laugh.

Wordlessly, Beca wraps her arm around Chloe’s middle, sliding in close to her back and fitting her knees in the space where Chloe’s legs bend.

“Bec, are you—”

“Don’t say a single word about it, Beale,” Beca warns. 

Chloe doesn’t say anything further, instead resting her hand on top of Beca’s.

“Thank you,” Chloe whispers into the darkness after a long stretch of silence.

“Anytime,” Beca says quietly, resisting the urge to press a kiss to Chloe’s shoulder.

The last thing she thinks before she falls asleep is that she might just be in love with Chloe Beale.


	356. Chapter 356

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca always comes home everyday - from her shit producing job with pimp low - exhausted and completely over it. A long weekend rolls by and Chloe decides to have blanket fort movie nights/days in with Beca to make her feel better.

For as long as she can remember, Beca has wanted to be a producer.

She’s dreamed about it for years, and she had been over the moon when she landed her first real, adult job.

But the reality? It kind of sucks.

Beca’s post-work routine is dropping her bag by the door and collapsing into her bed and not moving for at least two hours.

Chloe peers at her with concern from across the room, but Beca insists she’s fine.

It’s not like it’s Chloe’s problem, anyway.

It’s another one of those days when Beca gets home completely drained and prepared to lie in bed for the entire long weekend.

But never underestimate Chloe Beale.

Chloe has converted their tiny studio into a blanket fort, á la fourth grade.

“Chlo? What is this?” Beca asks, dropping her bag and taking off her shoes. 

Chloe pokes her head from under a blanket. “I made a fort,” she says.

“I can see that.” Beca kneels on the floor and looks into the fort. Under the blanket-roof are blankets and pillows, a bowl of popcorn, and Chloe’s laptop.

“I know how tired your job makes you,” Chloe explains, backing up against the pillows and patting the space next to her for Beca to join her. “So I thought we could just stay in this weekend.”

Beca crawls over and settles in next to Chloe, their shoulders touching in the small space. Chloe’s laptop is poised open in front of them, the browser open to Netflix.

“Thanks, Chlo,” Beca says, turning to look at her. Fleetingly, she thinks how beautiful Chloe looks with her hair in a messy bun and no makeup on.

“Of course,” Chloe says, with a soft smile that makes Beca’s heart squeeze a little bit. She wraps her arm around Beca’s shoulders and tangles their legs together, using her other arm to start a movie.

Beca thinks about protesting—she has an image to upkeep, after all—but there’s never been much use in putting up a front with Chloe.

Instead, she rests her head in the crook where Chloe’s neck meets her shoulder, near her collarbone. If she listens closely, she can hear the faint  _thump-thump_  of Chloe’s heartbeat.

Beca hates her shitty job, but she supposes it’s not so bad when she can come home to Chloe.

_I could do this for the rest of my life_ , Beca thinks. 

The thought scares her, but she’s never had any reason to be afraid with Chloe by her side.

 

 


	357. Chapter 357

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do a high school AU where Beca and Chloe hate each other but they play spin the bottle and have to kiss each other and sparks fly?

Beca hates Chloe Beale.

God, she hates her for  _so_  many reasons she can’t even recall all of them. (She should make a list.)

Chloe’s natural personality, for one thing, is like a six-year-old hopped up on too many Red Bulls. She smiles all the time, and says things like “totes” and “awes” when, in exchange for a couple more syllables, she could sound like the legal adult that she is. And she uses  _way_  too many emojis—not that Beca scrolls through her Instagram often or anything.

And Beca hates Chloe’s clear blue eyes and soft red hair and perfect body—

Whatever. She just hates Chloe Beale. It’s a free country; she doesn’t  _need_  to justify it.

Jesse seems to be under the impression that Beca is harboring a secret crush on Chloe—fixating, he called it—but it’s not like that. 

( _”I’m just saying, Becaw, that, for someone who claims not to like her, you spend an awful lot of time talking about her, and staring at her like you’re both about to go down with the Titanic and this is the last time you’ll ever gaze into each other’s eyes—”_

_“Shut the fuck up,” Beca snaps, turning to walk away. “And I’m never going to watch Titanic with you again.”  
_

_Jesse’s_ noooooo _follows her down the hallway._ )

It’s fine. She can be at the same party of Chloe and not complain about it. 

She can even play spin the bottle with the same group as her and not give a fuck.

That’ll show Jesse how little she cares about Chloe Beale.Plus, there’s only a—Beca does a quick head count—one in twelve chance that she’ll actually have to kiss her.

Soon enough it’s Beca’s turn to spin the bottle—a root beer bottle, because Aubrey’s dad is a hardass and seems to have a sixth sense for underage drinking.

The bottle turns a few times and then almost comically slowly comes to a stop on Chloe.

Beca grits her teeth as Jesse laughs quietly next to her, the rest of the group whooping and whistling. Chloe’s face is neutral as they stare at each other for a moment, not moving.

Jesse elbows her in the side, and Beca shoots him a glare before reluctantly crawling across the small circle to kneel in front of Chloe, who has the audacity to smile at her softly.

Beca’s eyes involuntarily trace the curve of Chloe’s lips. When she looks back up, Chloe is smirking at her. Beca blushes, caught.

Chloe rests a gentle hand on the back of Beca’s neck, and Beca’s shoulders tense in anticipation. Beca watches as Chloe’s face gets closer and closer, and then shuts her eyes to keep from going cross-eyed.

Then Chloe’s lips land on hers, just the barest hint of pressure, and something in Beca’s chest tightens.

Beca cocks her head, just a little, pressing forward. Her hand clamps onto Chloe’s shoulder, probably harder than necessary, but Beca’s temporarily forgotten which way is up and feels like Chloe is the only thing holding her to the ground.

Her heart feels like it’s going a million miles a minute when Chloe finally pulls away. Beca blinks, disoriented.

Chloe’s not making eye contact with Beca, which is weird, because Chloe is practically the  _queen_  of eye contact. (It’s another one of the things Beca hated about her.)

Then Chloe brushes a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, and Beca notices her hands are shaking, too.

Jesse clears his throat behind her, and Beca snaps back to reality. Awkwardly, she crawls back to her spot in the circle, and the group moves on to the next person.

Jesse looks at her strangely. “Are you—”

“We’re never going to speak of this,” Beca cuts him off, holding up a hand.

Jesse, to his credit, shuts up.

Beca chances a glance at Chloe, and they make eye contact for a moment. Chloe smiles at her.

It sets butterflies off in Beca’s stomach.

God, she hates Chloe Beale.

 

 


	358. Chapter 358

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: fake dating.

Beca pushes open the door of the bathroom—her favorite bathroom, the one in the rear of the school near the gym that no one uses—during the break between third and fourth period.

Except there's someone in her bathroom.

"Emily?" Beca strides over to Emily, who's leaning against the sinks, dabbing at her eyes with a rumpled paper towel.

"Hi, Beca," Emily says sadly, looking at her hands. She has a little bit of mascara smudged under her eyes.

Beca frowns. "What's wrong? Did someone die?"

Emily laughs a little. "Nobody died. Benji, um…" She sniffles. "He broke up with me."

"I'm sorry," Beca says, awkwardly rubbing Emily's arm. She's not great with crying people. "Boys are dumb."

"And—and—" Emily takes a deep, shuddering breath. "And now I don't have anyone to go to prom with, and it's in less than a week."

"Why not just go by yourself?" Beca asks. She's not planning on going to prom herself. She's not particularly eager to watch all of her classmates grind on each other.

"I can't," Emily says, scandalized. "You don't  _do_  that."

"Sorry." Beca rolls her eyes. "Why did he break up with you, anyway?"

Emily's face scrunches up and she starts to cry again.

"Shit, sorry," Beca backpedals. "You know what? It doesn't matter."

Emily just keeps crying, and Beca awkwardly shoves more paper towels into her hands.

"Why don't you go to prom with me?" Beca asks before she can think better of it.

Emily looks up. "What?"

"Uh." Beca rubs the back of her neck. "Go with me?"

"Are you sure?" Emily asks.

"Why not?" Beca says, shrugging. "There's free food, right?"

"Thank you," Emily breathes, lunging forward and hugging Beca, nearly toppling them over.

"We'll shove it in Benji's face how good we look," Beca jokes tentatively.

Emily smiles instead of bursting into tears again.

It's a good sign.

* * *

"Thank you again for doing this," Emily says, pausing by the entrance to the ballroom their school's rented.

"It's fine," Beca says, and it is. She'd borrowed a dress from her friend Chloe so she didn't have to buy one, and Emily had insisted on paying for her ticket. "You look really pretty."

And she does—Emily's long hair is swept up into an updo, her coral dress complementing her tan skin. Beca knows Emily's makeup isn't professionally done because Beca watched her do it, but it's flawless. Emily has also kindly not worn heels for the occasion, evening their height difference out a bit.

It takes her a moment to realize Emily's said something.

"Sorry, what?" Beca asks, blushing.

"I asked if you wanted to go in," Emily repeats.

"Oh," Beca says. Yeah."

Emily reaches out and takes Beca's hand, leading her into the ballroom.

* * *

When Beca comes back with another plate of food, Emily is staring at something, a sad look on her face.

"Em? What's wrong?"" Beca asks, sitting down. She follows Emily's line of sight and sees Benji slow dancing with some girl. "Oh."

"It's fine," Emily says, voice tight. "I don't care."

"Let's dance," Beca says, standing back up.

Emily looks at her strangely. "What?"

"Let's dance," Beca says again, holding out her hand.

"You don't have to—"

"I'm your date, aren't i?" Beca cuts her off. "So let's dance."

"Okay," Emily agrees, taking Beca's hand.

They stare at each other for a moment before Emily hesitantly puts her hands on Beca's shoulders. To her surprise, Beca places her hands on Emily's hips. After a minute, they get a good rhythm swaying back and forth to the music.

"Thanks for being my date," Emily says with a soft smile that makes Beca's heart beat a little bit faster.

"Sure," Beca says, shrugging under the weight of Emily's hands. "What are friends for?"

Emily gives her kind of a funny look. "Is that what we are?"

"Huh?"

"Friends," Emily clarifies.

"Oh. Uh. I—um," Beca stammers.

"You know what? Never mind," Emily says quickly, looking down at her feet for a moment.

"No!" Beca says, a little too loudly. "I mean, no, it's fine. Um. I feel like we could be… more?" It comes out like a question.

It seems to be good enough for Emily, who beams at her like Beca's just told her she's won the lottery.

"Do you want to go see a movie on Friday?" Emily asks, her tone hopeful in the most adorable way.

Beca doesn't even hesitate when she says, "Yes."

"Cool!" Emily says, then her smile freezes for just a moment.

Beca turns to catch the tail end of Benji kissing his date.

"Are you okay?" Beca asks quietly.

Emily blinks, then smiles again. "I don't even care."

"You're sure?" Beca says skeptically.

"Yep," Emily assures her. "I really don't."

Beca believes her.


	359. Chapter 359

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: height difference

Emily is tall.

Sure, she's not  _that_ much taller than the guys Beca's dated in the past, but Emily is about ninety percent leg, so she seems even taller.

There's something about having to stand up on her tip-toes to kiss Emily that makes Beca's heart beat a little faster.

Sometimes, though, Emily uses her height to her advantage.

Like now—they've both spotted the last of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Briefly, they lock gazes in challenge before Emily lunges forward and grabs the box.

"Oh, come on," Beca says, incensed. "I saw you have some yesterday and I barely got to eat any of it."

"Sounds like your problem," Emily says. It's clear she's aiming for aloof and nonchalant, but from her it comes off as playful.

Beca lets out a noise of irritation, reaching to snatch the box from Emily's hand. Emily immediately lifts the box over her head.

"Nice try," Emily says, a laugh on the edge of her voice. "How's the weather down there?"

"Hilarious," Beca deadpans. "You know what? Finish the box. It's fine."

Emily frowns for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Sure," Beca says with a shrug.

Cautiously, Emily lowers the box from over her head.

Beca tilts her head up and rises up on her toes to give Emily a quick kiss.

Emily puts the box down on the counter to put her hands on Beca's waist.

It's just the opening Beca needs: she snatches the box from the counter and darts out of the room.

"Hey!" Beca hears Emily yell. "That's a cheap shot."

"Sorry not sorry," Beca calls back. "Love you!"

Emily may have the height advantage, but nobody can beat Beca Mitchell at exploiting others' best qualities.


	360. Chapter 360

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: friends with benefits + "All I'm saying is, I'd prioritize your orgasm over mine." Bemily please! When Emily is the top?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Emily is the most courteous person Beca knows.

She always holds the door for people—even people she doesn't know, and even though half the time nobody thanks her. She lets Beca cut her in line when they go to get coffee, and she always lets the other girls have the last of the cereal.

Since they've started this… whatever they're doing, Beca's only noticed it more.

Whenever they hook up, Emily always lets Beca, er… finish first, and always says, "Thank you!" when they finish.

It's a little weird, but that's Emily.

It kind of makes Beca feel a little selfish.

Yet here she is again—right on the edge, with Emily's face between her thighs.

Every part of Beca is screaming at her to let go, but she pushes weakly at Emily's head and says, "Wait."

Emily stops immediately. "Is everything okay?" she asks, somehow looking adorably concerned despite her shiny, slick lips and tousled hair.

"Yeah, it's just—" Beca pauses, her brain still focused on the ache between her legs. "I always go first."

Emily frowns. "Go where first?"

Beca presses her fingers to her temples. "I always  _come_  first, Emily."

"Oh," Emily says. "That's okay."

"No," Beca insists, "it's unfair."

"It's really okay," Emily tells her.

"It's not—"

Emily cuts her off with a kiss to Beca's inner thigh.

"I like it this way," Emily says, looking up at Beca through hooded eyes.

It makes Beca's gut twist painfully.

"I like watching you," Emily continues, absently rubbing her thumb against Beca's clit as she speaks.

Beca inhales sharply, dropping her head back against the pillow with a soft, "Fuck."

"I like knowing that you're coming because of  _me_ , that you're saying  _my_  name. Plus, you make the cutest face when you come. It's like—" Emily scrunches her nose and opens her mouth in a way that definitely isn't cute, but Beca's more concerned with the way Emily's hand stills.

"Em," Beca reminds her, voice strained.

"Oops, sorry!" Emily says, dipping her head again and circles her tongue around Beca's clit, gently easing a finger into her after a moment.

It barely takes two minutes for Beca to crash over the edge with a gasp and a strangled cry.

Emily doesn't stop moving her tongue until the final aftershocks have been coaxed out. Then she looks up at Beca—whose hands are still gripped in the bed sheets, chest heaving—and grins.

"All I'm saying is, I'd prioritize your orgasm over mine," Emily tells her. "Besides, isn't that what friends are for?"

"No, it really isn't," Beca says, trying to gather the motivation to move.

Emily frowns thoughtfully as she flops down next to Beca. "I guess you're right." Then she pokes Beca in the side. "That was fun. Thanks!"

Beca rolls her eyes. "You're welcome."


	361. Chapter 361

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: marching band/cheer captain.

Beca never planned on joining marching band.

The only instrument she played before last year was piano—and she was a shitty piano at that.

But her dad said he wouldn’t pay for her to study music theory in college if she didn’t play an instrument, so the clarinet it was.

Plus, she gets to watch the cute cheerleaders during the football games. 

That’s exactly what she’s doing right now: watching the cheerleaders stretching as the rest of the band warms up before the halftime show.

Beca, in theory, should also be warming up, but she finds watching Emily Junk, the captain of the cheer team, sink into a split much more interesting.

In retrospect, maybe she shouldn’t have been standing quite so close to the cheerleaders, and maybe if she had been warming up with the rest of the band it wouldn’t have happened, but Beca has a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 _THUD_.

Beca hits the ground as a literal human falls out of the sky and lands on top of her.

“Ow! What the fuck?” Beca says, pressing a hand to her head.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” whomever landed on top of her says, rolling off of Beca.

“You should be—” Beca starts to say, but she cuts herself off when she sees Emily looking at her with concern.

Right. Cheerleaders throw each other into the air for sport.

“Are you okay?” Emily asks, picking up Beca’s clarinet and handing it back to her.

“Fine,” Beca says, even though she’s pretty sure she has the keys of her clarinet imprinted on her hand.

“You’re bleeding,” Emily says, pointing to Beca’s cheek.

Beca frowns, and gingerly touches the spot, hissing at the sting when her fingers make contact.

“We have a first aid kit over by the bleachers,” Emily tells her, holding out her hand to help Beca up.

“Thanks,” Beca says, checking her clarinet over for damage as they head over to the bleachers. (It’s a rental.)

“I really am sorry,” Emily apologizes again as she opens the first aid kit. “The girls were supposed to catch me.”

“It’s alright,” Beca says, wincing as Emily spritzes some kind of antibacterial spray on her cheek. “It’s my fault for standing too close.”

Emily pokes her tongue out adorably of the corner of her mouth as she focuses on applying a bandage. 

“There!” Emily says, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Good as new.”

“Thanks.” Beca stands to head back to join the band when Emily catches her hand.

“Almost forgot,” Emily says. She leans forward and very lightly and carefully touches her lips to the bandage, the pulls away with a smile. “To make it heal faster.”

“Uh-huh,” Beca says, coughing awkwardly as she blushes. “I should, um, get back.”

“Have a good half-time show,” Emily tells her with a bright smile before jogging back to the cheerleaders. 

Maybe, Beca thinks, should get hit by falling cheerleaders more often.


	362. Chapter 362

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: angst + "You know damn well why things are the way they are."

Emily never has and never will cheat on someone.

But she’s never stopped to think about whether she’d sleep with someone who’s in a relationship.

It’s not cheating, technically. But it feels that way.

Hearing Beca sneak out at three in the morning or watching her text her boyfriend an excuse for why she’ll be home late makes Emily’s stomach twist with guilt.

But she’d rather have this little bit of Beca, in secret, than not have her at all.

It’s another one of those nights where Emily wakes up to find Beca hastily throwing her clothes back on, searching for a sock with only the light of the moon to guide her.

“Bec?” Emily asks sleepily, rubbing at one eye. 

“I gotta go,” Beca says, sitting on the bed to tie her shoes. “Jesse’s working the night shift so he’ll be home in a couple hours.”

“Stay for a little longer,” Emily says, reaching out to touch Beca on the arm.

Beca turns and braces herself on one arm so she can give Emily a lingering kiss, cupping Emily’s cheek with her other hand. 

“I can’t,” Beca says when she pulls away, not meeting Emily’s eyes.

“Come on,” Emily cajoles, sitting up. She doesn’t bother covering her bare chest with the blanket. “You always leave in the middle of the night.”

Beca closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. 

“You know damn well why things are the way they are,” Beca says lowly, standing up. 

Her words feel like a knife to Emily’s stomach, but Beca has always had the incredible ability to rip Emily to shreds and then expertly stitch her back together again.

Beca goes to open the door, but pauses with her hand on the knob. 

“Don’t make me choose between you and Jesse,” Beca warns her, eyes hard, “because I will choose him.”

And then she’s gone.


	363. Chapter 363

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also for Bemily Week: angst + "There is nothing more we can do." + "Let go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for major character death and discussion of cancer.

Beca knew this day was coming.

They’ve been on this trajectory ever since the doctor told them, “There is nothing more we can do.”

It’s weird to be told when and how anyone is going to die, let alone your wife.

In theory, she’s known this moment was coming for months, but nothing really prepares you to watch the love of your life slipping in and out of consciousness, doped up on pain meds.

Despite her height, Emily looks small and young in the hospital bed, under the quilt she’s had since childhood. 

It makes Beca think of their college days, when their biggest problem was how to win a cappella competitions, when cancer was the furthest thing from their mind—something that happened to other people.

Then it happened to them.

Emily is teetering on the divide between life and death, occasionally taking heaving breaths like she’s clinging to life by her fingernails and is trying to pull herself back up.

Beca knows Emily is fighting for Beca’s sake.

And that’s Emily in a nutshell: always putting Beca first, even when she’s so sick and drugged up that she can’t open her eyes.

Emily might be dying, but her love for Beca isn’t.

It’s what gives Beca the strength to say, “Let go.”

“You can let go, Em,” Beca says quietly, her voice raspy as she struggles to hold back tears. “I love you so much.”

A choked sob escapes as Beca holds Emily’s hand tightly.

”You put up a good fight, but you can let go now.” Beca wipes at her eyes. “I’ll be okay.”

Leaning over, Beca presses a kiss to Emily’s lips. 

And then the monitor flatlines.


	364. Chapter 364

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another (final) one for Bemily Week: angst + "You mean so much to me. Please let me help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for description/discussion of self harm and mention of blood.

Beca always wears long sleeves. 

Emily never really thought anything of it at first. Beca’s a small person; maybe she has trouble producing her own body heat.

But after a week of 80-degree weather towards the end of the school year, Emily started to get concerned.

It’s probably nothing, though, and Emily forgets about it for another couple of weeks.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon when Emily gets home from class. 

The rest of the girls don’t usually get home until later, so Emily doesn’t bother knocking on the bathroom door despite the fact that it’s closed.

She halts in her tracks when she sees Beca, sitting on the toilet, hunched over.

“Oh shit, Bec, I’m sor—” Emily starts to apologize, but then she notices that the lid is closed.

Then she notices that Beca is bleeding.

And  _then_  she notices the razor blade in Beca’s hand.

Beca stares at her, wide-eyed, frozen.

“Oh, my God!” Emily says, pushing the door open the rest of the way and dropping to her knees in front of Beca. “Beca, what are you  _doing_?”

Her words seem to startle Beca back into reality. 

“It’s nothing,” Beca says, pressing a tissue to her bleeding wrist. “Get out!”

“No, I’m not going to get out!” Emily practically yells. “You’re—you’re—”

“It’s nothing,” Beca repeats, a little desperately. “Just leave me alone.”

“Jesus Christ, Bec.” Emily runs a hand through her hair. “I’m not gonna leave so you can keep slicing yourself up.”

“Fine,” Beca grits out. She tosses the razor into the trash. It makes a hollow  _thunk_  as it hits the plastic. “Now will you leave?”

Emily notices that the tissue Beca’s holding is soaked with blood, and she pulls some toilet paper off of the roll and hands it to Beca.

“No,” Emily says again, more quietly this time. “Why are you doing this, Beca?”

“Why do you care?” Beca bites back. The bitterness in her tone surprises Emily; the girl cowering in front of her on the closed toilet lid is nothing like the self-assured, easygoing Beca Emily knows.

“If you really want me to leave, then I’ll go,” Emily concedes. She can’t bully Beca into letting her in. “But you mean so much to me. Please let me help.”

Beca stares at her for a long moment before letting out a shaky breath, seeming to deflate.

And then she starts to cry.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Emily whispers, tentatively hugging Beca and letting out an  _oof_  of surprise when Beca hugs her tightly back. 

“Thank you,” Beca mumbles into her neck.

“Of course,” Emily says, rubbing circles on Beca’s back. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She’s not sure if she’s reassuring Beca or herself.


	365. Chapter 365

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: free choice + "God, I cant pay attention to anything else but you."

Beca has always considered herself to be a very focused person.

Her father might argue that she’s focused on the wrong things, but when Beca’s working on a mix, nothing can distract her.

Nothing except Emily Junk.

It’s not really Emily’s fault, but sometimes it would be easier if she could take her stupidly attractive face somewhere else.

Like right now: Beca’s  _trying_  to come up with a new set list. The Bellas need something fresh for their gig this weekend, but she’s finding it hard to concentrate.

Emily is seated on the other end of the couch, with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, the glasses she only lets Beca see her wear perched on the end of her nose as she reads a book.

It’s really not fair how casually beautiful Emily is.

On the fourth or fifth time Emily catches Beca staring, she finally asks, “What’s up?”

Beca makes a disgruntled sound. “I just can’t get this right.” She puts her laptop on the coffee table and runs a hand down her face. “Maybe I just need a break.”

Emily puts her book down and gives Beca the mischievous smile that always makes Beca’s heart beat a little bit faster.

“Maybe you need a little distraction?” Emily says, scooting down the couch to press a light kiss to the corner of Beca’s mouth.

Beca huffs out a laugh. “That’s kind of the last thing I need.”

Emily pulls back with a frown. “Oh, sorry,” she says, retreating.

“No, I mean…” Beca catches her by the shoulder before she can go too far. "God, I cant pay attention to anything else but you,” she breathes.

“Oh,” Emily says, her smile returning. “In that case, maybe you should just get it out of your system.”

Before Beca knows it, Emily is sitting in her lap, straddling her, as she presses feather-light kisses to Beca’s neck.

Beca looks at her laptop for a moment before placing her hands on Emily’s hips.

Maybe Emily has a point.


	366. Chapter 366

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: free choice + "I could never say no to you."

****Whomever came up with the phrase “like a kid in a candy store” should bear witness to Emily Junk in Dylan’s Candy Bar.

“Beca, look! They have chocolate-covered gummy bears!” Emily yells, dashing away from the jelly beans so quickly it gives Beca whiplash.

“That’s disgusting,” Beca says, eyeing the brown lumps.

Emily either doesn’t hear or or ignores her and shovels a generous scoop into her bulging candy bag.

“Will you hold this?” Emily asks, shoving her three giant lollipops and six bars of fudge into Beca’s hands so she can put the twist-tie on her bag.

“Sure,” Beca says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes, juggling the new candy with the candy she’s already been hauling around the store for Emily. “Are we about done, Em?”

Emily puts a hand on her hip and surveys the store as Beca shifts on her sore feet, wincing as a child nearby starts screeching. At least the intense chocolate scent permeating the store isn’t making her nauseous anymore.

“Yeah,” Emily says finally, and Beca heaves a sigh of relief.

The line seems to take forever, but then they finally reach the register and the cashier scans all of Emily’s candy. 

“That’ll be $54.56,” the cashier says.

Emily looks in her purse for a moment and frowns. She digs around for a couple moments, then slaps a hand to her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” Beca asks, displeased at the holdup.

“My wallet is in my other bag,” Emily says, eyes wide. She looks mournfully at all the candy and starts to say, “I’m so sorry, but—”

“I got it,” Beca says before she can think too much about it, slapping down her credit card.

Emily looks at Beca with surprise. “Bec, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Beca says, swiping her card before she can change her mind. 

“I’ll pay you back,” Emily promises, but Beca waves her off.

“It’s cool,” Beca says, shrugging with a half-smile. “I could never say no to you.”

Despite listening to children scream all day, Beca’s ears are not prepared for Emily’s high-pitched squeal as she practically tackles Beca with a hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” Beca says, blushing a bit. “I love you, too.”


	367. Chapter 367

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Bemily Week: free choice + "Sweetheart, come here. it's been far too long without seeing your face."

Beca’s actually really nervous to go to this Bellas reunion thing.

She’s not worried about Chloe’s strange behavior (although that is concerning), or the prospect of being surrounded by so many fish (she doesn’t trust them).

No—it’s going to be the first time she’s seen Emily Junk in nearly a year.

She follows her on all the requisite social medias, of course, and they’ve Skyped, although that was always with at least two other girls.

Beca had thought the time apart would help her kick this crush, but it’s only made it worse.

She runs into Emily outside of the bathroom, of all places.

Well, it’s more like Emily tackles Beca from behind.

“Beca Mitchell!”

“Oof!”

Emily lets go and comes around so Beca can actually see her.

“Emily,” Beca breathes, pressing a hand to her racing heart, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“Oops,” Emily says with an unapologetic smile. 

There’s a beat of silence.

“So, uh, fancy meeting you here,” Beca says awkwardly, acutely aware of how good Emily looks. She’s wearing some sparkly top and a short skirt, and her makeup looks professional.

And Beca’s standing here in the old Bellas flight attendant outfit. She hasn’t even brushed her hair since she got off work this afternoon.

Emily laughs. “Sweetheart, come here. it’s been far too long without seeing your face.”

Emily pulls Beca into a proper hug, and Beca fleetingly thinks that they fit together perfectly.

It’s over far too soon because someone calls Emily’s name.

“I’ll see you out there?” Emily says, still holding Beca by the waist, and Beca just nods dumbly.

She really has to kick this crush.


	368. Chapter 368

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe based on this: “Stopping by the flower van to buy your girlfriend a flower before you meet so often the lady running the van recognizes you. Your girlfriend doing the same and being recognized too.”

Emily loves romantic gestures. 

Her favorite holiday is, of course, Valentine’s Day, and she watches cute YouTube videos of people proposing to their significant others before going to sleep.

She wishes she could spend all her time watching people make sweeping romantic gestures, but that borders on creepy.

So she got a flower van instead.

A lot of Emily’s customers are just people who like flowers, which is fine—but her favorite customers are the ones who’re buying flowers for their significant others, whether it’s for a special occasion or just because.

There’s one couple in particular that comes to her van a lot.

“Hey, Chloe,” Emily says, already ready with the usual daisy. 

“Hi,” Chloe says brightly, handing over a few single bills. “I have some exciting news for you.”

Emily rests her elbows on the small counter. “What is it?”

Chloe leans in conspiratorially. “I’m going to propose to Beca on Saturday.”

Emily honest-to-goodness squeals. “That’s so exciting!”

“We have a little reunion with some college friends in the park, so I’m going to do it then,” Chloe informs her. “I’ll need a bouquet.”

“I’m on it,” Emily tells her, writing herself a sticky note as a reminder. 

“You’re the best,” Chloe says, blowing Emily a kiss. “And you’re welcome to join us on Saturday.”

“I’ll be there,” Emily promises.

* * *

“Hey, Beca,” Emily says, greeting the other half of her favorite couple about two hours later.

“What’s up?” Beca says rhetorically, slapping down her money for the single red rose she buys every week.

Beca is a lot less personable than Chloe, but she’s smiling today.

“I’m going to need a special bouquet for Saturday,” Beca says, and Emily raises her eyebrows—and then quickly lowers them. She can’t let on that she knows anything.

“Why?” Emily asks, making herself another sticky note.

“I’m going to propose to Chloe,” Beca tells her, and Emily freezes.

Realizing she’s been quiet too long, Emily says a little too loudly, “That’s great!”

“I’ll be back on Saturday beforehand to pick up the bouquet,” Beca says over her shoulder as she leaves.

Well, fuck.

* * *

It’s a beautiful day outside—sunny and unusually warm for March. Kids are out playing on the playground nearby, and everyone around her is talking and laughing.

Emily feels sick.

Is she a bad person for not tipping off Beca or Chloe? Is she doing the right thing by keeping both secrets?

She never thought owning a flower van would be so damn stressful.

“Hey, guys, listen up!” Beca calls. “I have something I want to say.”

Oh no. It’s happening.

The chatter dies down as Beca takes Chloe’s hands in hers. 

“So obviously you guys know that Chloe and I have been dating for three years now, and she’s made me so insanely happy,” Beca says, blushing a little bit. It’s probably the most words in a single sentence Emily’s ever heard come out of her mouth.

The group—Beca and Chloe’s college friends, Emily remembers—make a collective  _aww_  noise, and a couple whistle.

“Chlo, you are the kindest, smartest, most talented woman I know, and I am so thankful that you walked into my shower,” Beca continues, and Emily makes a mental note to ask her for that story later.

The girls gasp as Beca drops to one knee and starts fishing in her pocket.

“Chloe Beale, will you ma—”

“What are you doing?” Chloe interrupts, and Emily feels like she’s going to throw up.

Beca frowns. “Shut the fuck up for ten seconds and you’ll know.”

“Are you proposing?” Chloe asks, confused.

Beca blinks. “Maybe?” she says, sounding suddenly unsure.

“No, I mean—” Chloe reaches into her back pocked and pulls out a ring box, dropping to one knee as well. “I was going to propose. Like, right now.”

Beca stares at her for a long moment. “So it’s a yes then?”

“Of course it is, you idiot,” Chloe says, laughing. 

“Okay,” Beca says. “Cool. Way to ruin the moment, though.”

Chloe smacks her.

Emily lets out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding.

Beca and Chloe slide their respective rings on each other’s fingers as their friends cheer around them.

“Oh!” Chloe says, standing and reaching into her conspicuously large bag. “I got you these.”

Beca laughs and jogs over to retrieve her bouquet out from behind a nearby tree. “I got you these.”

“Wait,” Chloe says, scanning the group for Emily. “You knew?”

“Uh,” Emily says.

Beca appears to notice Emily for the first time. “You invited the flower girl?” she asks Chloe incredulously.

Emily takes that as her cue to leave.

“It was really nice of you to invite me I hope you have a long and happy marriage see you on Wednesday!” Emily calls over her shoulder as she dashes to her car.

Maybe she’ll take a break from proposal videos tonight.

 

 


	369. Chapter 369

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bechloe where they’re expecting a baby girl and suggesting names + something like “let’s name her Lizard and call her Liz for short and people will think it’s short for Elizabeth” or “mayonnaise and call her May.”

Naming a baby is a lot more difficult than Chloe expected.

She wants to name their new daughter something unique but not too obscure that she won’t be able to find it on mugs or keychains in gift shops. But she also doesn’t want her daughter to share a name with six other girls in her class.

Maybe Beca has some ideas.

“Oh yeah,” Beca says when Chloe brings up the subject, unlocking her phone and opening the notes app. “I made a list.”

Chloe smiles. “Perf.”

“Liz,” Beca says.

Chloe tilts her head, considering it. “Like, short for Elizabeth?”

Beca shakes her head. “Short for Lizard.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. 

“May,” Beca says, looking like she’s trying not to laugh, “short for mayonnaise.”

“Beca,” Chloe says warningly. 

Beca gives her a self-satisfied smirk and Chloe can just see her giggling to herself as she thinks up ways to annoy Chloe.

“And Meg—”

“Short for what?” Chloe cuts in, crossing her arms. 

“Megatron,” Beca says a little more quietly, like she knows she’s toeing the line of Chloe’s patience.

“Are you finished?” Chloe asks, annoyance evidence on her face.

“I have one more,” Beca says.

Chloe just raises an eyebrow.

“Bella,” Beca says.

“And what’s that short for?” Chloe asks tiredly.

“It’s not short for anything,” Beca tells her with a shrug. “Just Bella.”

Chloe narrows her eyes and stares at Beca for a moment. Once she determines that Beca appears to be serious, Chloe grins.

“I love it,” Chloe says.

“Cool,” Beca says. “Me, too.”

“And I love  _you_ ,” Chloe adds. “Even though you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Hey!” Beca makes a face. “I am a joy to be around.”

“Yeah, alright,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes again.

Beca looks at her watch. “Oh, I gotta get going to make it to work on time.”

“Okay,” Chloe says.

“Bye, babe,” Beca says, then leans forward to press a chaste kiss to Chloe’s baby bump. “Bye, Bella.”

Chloe hides her smile behind her hand.

Beca might driver her nuts at times, but there’s nobody Chloe would rather raise a child with.


	370. Chapter 370

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you still awake…?” + “I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.” + Bechloe

Chloe can’t sleep.

It’s not because her mind is racing with fears about the future, which is usually the culprit on nights like these. Well, that or ideas about set lists for the Bellas (never mind the fact that her Bella days have drawn to a close—she can always send them to Emily).

No, it’s something else keeping her awake tonight.

They’ve been back in Brooklyn for a week since their USO tour, and Chloe’s world has felt off-kilter ever since she kissed Chicago.

It’s not him, exactly—Chicago is nice, and smart, and undeniably hot. It’s more who he  _isn’t_.

Chloe had approached him in a haze of giddy, triumphant energy after Beca’s performance, but when she actually kissed him she felt… nothing. No sparks, no butterflies, no desire to make the moment last forever. It was hardly comparable to watching Beca perform only shortly before.

And that’s when it hit her.

She’s been chasing this feeling—the weak-in-the-knees, heart-hammering, goofy-grinning giddiness—with Chicago, and with Tom, and all her flings in between, but it always feels just out of her reach. It’s a feeling she only experiences when she’s with Beca.

It was like fitting the final piece of a puzzle: her initial infatuation with Beca, the desire to spend as much time as possible with her, and Chloe’s irrational mild dislike of Jesse (despite him being nothing less than an upstanding, nice guy) all suddenly made sense.

Chloe loves Beca. And not in a friend way—in an I-want-to-hold-your-hand, memorize-every-inch-of-your-body, spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you way.

And now here she is, at two in the morning, six inches away from Beca.

“Beca,” she whispers into the darkness, rolling over to look at Beca’s back, “are you still awake?”

Chloe holds her breath for a moment, but there’s no response.

For some reason, she almost feels like crying.

Chloe remembers when she would go to confession at the church in her hometown; she doesn’t think the priest particularly gave a shit about what she was saying, but she always felt lighter afterwards.

“I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death,” Chloe says, as quietly as she can. 

She thinks she hears a sharp intake of breath, and practically stops breathing, but she doesn’t hear anything else. She must have imagined it.

“You’re the smartest, most passionate, most caring person I know, even though you pretend not to give a shit,” Chloe continues. “It took me a long time to realize it but… I love you, and I have for years. I thought it was just because we’re so close, but when I picture myself in ten, twenty, even thirty years, you’re always right beside me. And—”

“Jesus Christ, Chloe,” Beca says beside her, her raspy voice nearly giving Chloe a heart attack. “I love you, too, but for the love of God, please shut up.”

Chloe freezes, heart racing. “Sorry,” she whispers after a long moment of silence.

Beca just grunts and rolls over, entangling one of her legs with Chloe’s. Chloe can feel her breath against her shoulder as Beca yawns.

“Wait,” Chloe says, “did you say you loved me?”

Beca groans. “Of course I do, dumbass.” She rubs at one of her eyes. “But only between the hours 8 am and 10 pm.”

Chloe grins despite Beca’s grouching. “Really? How long have you—”

She’s abruptly cut off by Beca’s lips on hers.

It’s chaste, and it only lasts for a second, but Chloe’s body immediately feels warm and her heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of her chest.

It’s everything she didn’t feel with Chicago.

“Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” Beca grumbles, rolling back over and yanking the blanket over her head.

There’s no way Chloe is going to sleep tonight.


	371. Chapter 371

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe has liked Beca for ages and was really obvious about it and Beca didn’t like all the attention but now she's over Beca so she starts missing it.

Chloe is kind of addicted to coffee. 

There’s a Starbucks around the corner from their apartment and Chloe stops there every day on her way home from work.

So that means that she delivers Beca an iced coffee every day at about five in the afternoon.

More often that not, she brings Beca some sort of baked good from the bakery across the street from Chloe’s job as well—and, on one occasion, Chloe brought her a rose.

(Chloe had said someone was giving them away for free, but Amy had mouthed  _yeah, right_  from across the room and also made peace signs with both of her hands and jammed them together—so there’s that.)

So when Chloe bursts through the door without an iced coffee in her hands, Beca feels a little stiffed.

In typical Chloe fashion, she starts changing out of her scrubs and into a dress in the middle of the room.

“Are you going somewhere?” Beca asks, sliding her headphones down to rest around her neck.

“I hate a date,” Chloe says, running a brush through her hair.

Beca frowns. “I thought we were going to watch Netflix and order Chinese tonight.”

Chloe starts digging in the closet for a pair of shoes. “We can do that tomorrow,” she says, voice slightly muffled.

“I have that work thing tomorrow,” Beca reminds her.

Chloe waves her hand. “We’ll figure it out later,” she says, grabbing her purse. 

“What about Friday?” Beca asks. She can  _feel_  herself being clingy, and she hates it. 

“Chicago and I are seeing a movie on Friday.” Chloe checks to make sure she has her keys, and then she’s out the door. “Bye!”

Beca stares at Chloe’s scrubs, which are lying in a heap on the floor, and feels strangely hurt.

She thinks about Chloe laughing over dinner with some guy—also, who names their child  _Chicago_?—and her gut tightens with jealousy.

Why is she jealous, though? It’s just… Chloe. It’s the same Chloe who dramatically sings both parts of duets into a spoon while she’s cooking. The Chloe who puts ketchup on her pasta. The Chloe who is so militant about wearing matching socks that she’ll offer to fold Beca’s laundry just so she can pair her socks for her.

Beca catches herself smiling dumbly into space as she thinks about her best friend’s quirks, and suddenly remembers the reason for her musing: Chloe and Chicago. 

It feels like someone dumps a bucket of ice water on her head.

 _Fuck_.

She likes Chloe Beale.


	372. Chapter 372

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of #357

Truthfully, Chloe hasn’t spent an awful lot of time thinking about Beca Mitchell. 

They’ve had a couple classes together, and on one occasion Chloe walked past Beca animatedly lip-syncing alone in her car, but Chloe always got the vibe that Beca didn’t like her. So Chloe stayed away.

Except now, Chloe can’t  _stop_ thinking about Beca.

Specifically, Chloe can’t stop thinking about the kiss they shared on Saturday night. 

She’s replayed it in her mind countless times—the softness of Beca’s lips, the contented sigh against Chloe’s mouth, the way Beca held onto Chloe like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground.

Chloe tried stalking Beca on social media, but her Instagram is just pictures of records and DJ equipment and the occasional dog, so that was a bust.

She’s been thinking about Beca so much that when she opens the bathroom door between classes on Monday and sees Beca washing her hands at the sink, Chloe thinks she’s hallucinating at first.Beca turns and looks at her with a deer-in-headlights look on her face.

“Hi,” Chloe says, leaning against one of the sinks.

“Hey,” Beca replies, drying her hands. 

A moment of awkward silence follows.

“So,” Chloe says, “why don’t you like me?”

It’s not exactly the smooth conversation starter she was hoping for, but once the question’s out there Chloe finds that she  _really_ wants to know.

“Um,” Beca says, turning a bit red, “I don’t… not like you?” It comes out sounding like a question.

Chloe crosses her arms. “Beca, come on.”

“Alright fine,” Beca concedes, wringing her hands. “You’re just… really happy. Like, all the time.”

Chloe frowns. “Is that bad?”

“It’s just not really my thing,” Beca says.

“It seemed like your thing on Saturday,” Chloe responds coolly. 

Beca turns redder. “That was an exception.”

“Really?” Chloe asks, stepping closer to Beca. “So if I were to ask if I could kiss you again, you would say no?”

It’s bold, and Chloe half expects Beca to tell her to go fuck herself. But she  _saw_  the way Beca’s hands were shaking after their kiss at the party.

“Uh, well,” Beca says, toying with one of her backpack straps. “I mean, if you really want to…”

Chloe smirks and steps forward, placing her hand on the back of Beca’s neck and pulling her in close.

It’s shorter than their previous kiss—Chloe’s not particularly keen on being caught kissing someone in the school bathroom—but it leaves a warm tingling feeling in Chloe’s chest that moves outwards and down her limbs. 

Something about it feels intensely familiar, even though this is only their second kiss.

There’s a few moments of silence after Chloe pulls away. It takes her a few seconds to realize that she still has her hand on Beca’s neck, her arm resting on Beca’s shoulder.

She pulls it back.

“I may have told you a lie,” Beca says softly.

Chloe quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

“I don’t like you because you’re illegally pretty,” Beca admits, looking at her shoes.

Chloe laughs. “I like you, too,” she says.

“I literally just said I  _don’t_ like you,” Beca says, aiming for what is probably supposed to be a serious look, undermined by the way the corner of her mouth is twitching upward.

“So you don’t want to get coffee and make out on my couch this weekend?” Chloe asks. 

“Definitely not,” Beca says, smiling now.

“Okay, I won’t pick you up at three on Saturday,” Chloe says with a shrug.

“I’ll be sure not to give you my address,” Beca replies. She looks like she’s about to say something else, but then the bell rings.

“Shoot, I gotta go,” Beca says. As she pulls the door open she says over her shoulder, “See you never.”

Chloe turns to the mirror to check her hair and finds that she can’t stop smiling.

 

 


	373. Chapter 373

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor." + Bechloe

Beca is a klutz, and their apartment is on the fourth floor of a walk-up.

It’s a recipe for disaster.

It strikes on a Tuesday afternoon, when they’re carrying groceries up the stairs. Beca misses a step and falls, twisting her ankle on the way down.

Chloe helps (read: carries) her to their couch. They ice it and elevate it.

Chloe immediately suggests going to urgent care, but Beca dismisses it. Chloe even offers to pay for an Uber, but Beca insists that she doesn’t need a doctor; she’s tough.

Chloe decides not to comment on that Beca sat on the steps and cried for a full five minutes before Chloe was able to coax her to a standing position.

So they give it a couple of days.

By Friday, Beca is still limping around the apartment, dramatically wincing every time she takes a step, and her ankle is a nasty bluish-black.

“Chloeeee,” Beca whines from her spot on the couch. She has her laptop on her lap, an empty potato chips bag on the coffee table. “Can you get me a drink?”

“Get it yourself,” Chloe says around the pen cap in her mouth, scribbling notes on a chapter in her feline anatomy textbook.

Beca lets out a long, dramatic huff, taking about ten seconds longer than necessary to stand up.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Beca mutters as she hobbles to the kitchen. She shoots Chloe a dirty look as she pours herself a glass of iced tea.

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”

“I don’t need one,” Beca says, shuffling back to the couch. “Plus aren’t you, like, close enough?”

Chloe frowns. “I’m studying to be a  _vet_ , Beca. Are you a dog?” Before Beca can answer, Chloe adds, “It would explain why you’re being such a bitch.” She laughs to herself, pleased.

“Can you, like, not make puns at my expense right now?” Beca grumbles. “My ankle could be broken.”

“Then go to a fucking doctor,” Chloe says, her frustration making her tone a little louder than she intended.

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then Beca starts sniffling.

Chloe looks up and sees Beca wiping at her eyes.

“Oh God,” Chloe says, dropping her pen and hurrying over to the couch. “I’m sorry, Bec. I didn’t mean to snap.”

Magically, Beca seems to stop crying. 

“While you’re over here, can you get me my headphones?” Beca asks in her sweetest voice.

Then Chloe notices her eyes aren’t even wet.

“I’m going to break your other ankle,” Chloe threatens lowly, looking Beca in the eye before walking away.

“So you admit it’s broken!” Beca calls.

Next year, Chloe vows, they’re moving to a building with an elevator.


	374. Chapter 374

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They're so cute when they're asleep." + Bechloe

Offering to babysit Bella was… a mistake.

She’s not even sure why she agreed to do it. 

Well, Stacie had asked if anyone was available and Beca was—and besides, it’s not like she  _hates_  kids. Only monsters hate kids. And Beca is not a monster.

Or, she thought she wasn’t. Until Bella trashed her apartment while screaming at the top of her lungs.

Kids are loud. Why didn’t anyone tell her kids were so loud?

“Hey, Bella,” Beca says, putting her laptop and her good headphones on the highest shelf of their bookcase. “Let’s play a game.”

“What game?” Bella asks, breathing hard from running approximately thirty-five laps around the couch. 

“It’s called sit on the couch and be quiet for ten minutes!” Beca says as excitedly as she can muster.

Bella crosses her arms. “No.”

“Please?” Beca asks, a little desperately.

Bella doesn’t respond, instead crouching down to eat a stray potato chip off of the carpet.

“Or we could watch a movie,” Beca suggests, scanning the bookshelf for a kid-appropriate DVD while Bella resumes running. 

 _The Shining_? Definitely not.  _Inception_? Probably too complicated.  _The Godfather_? Beca hasn’t seen it, but it seems benign enough. She goes to pull it off the shelf, but then—

 _Thud_.

Beca turns around to see Bella eat it, narrowly missing smacking her head on the coffee table.

Then she starts screaming.

“Oh God,” Beca says, hurrying over to the crying toddler. “Are you okay?”

“No!” Bella wails.

Beca looks Bella over for injuries. She can’t return her to Stacie damaged.

Beca doesn’t see any obvious injuries. She tries to reason with Bella. 

“Hey, you’re fine,” Beca says. “So you can, like, stop crying now, okay?”

But Bella just keeps crying—loud, hiccuping sobs.

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing Chloe.

“Hey, I’m home from wo—whoa, what’s happening?” Chloe says, looking at the scene with wide eyes.

“She’s fine,” Beca says, awkwardly patting Bella on the head. “She fell, but she’s not hurt.”

“Aw,” Chloe says, kicking the door closed behind her and crouching to scoop Bella into her arms. “You’re okay, sweetie.” She rubs soothing circles on Bella’s back, bouncing her lightly.

Beca just stands there wringing her hands, relieved that Bella’s screaming has lowered significantly.

“ _Woke up this morning, smile with the rising sun_ ,” Chloe starts to sing softly, her voice barely audible. “ _Singing sweet songs. of melodies pure and true. Saying, this is my message to you_.” 

Beca watches in awe as Bella’s crying subsides to sniffles, and she jumps in with a harmony as Chloe lays Bella on their bed.

“ _Singing don’t worry ‘bout a thing_  
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright.  
Singing don’t worry about a thing.  
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright.”

And with that, Bella is asleep.

There’s a few moments of silence.

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep,” Beca says quietly.

“Yeah, she’s precious,” Chloe says. There’s a soft smile on her face that makes Beca’s heart skip a beat.

“It wasn’t so precious when she was smearing peanut butter on the underside of the kitchen table,” Beca grumbles.

Chloe just laughs. “So I take it you don’t want kids?”

“Only if you never leave,” Beca jokes.

“That can be arranged,” Chloe says, reaching out and squeezing Beca’s hand.

Beca’s phone buzzes before she can ruin the moment by saying something sarcastic.

_**Stacie Conrad:**  hey, can you actually take bella tomorrow, too?_

"Hey, you’re not working tomorrow, right?” Beca asks.

“No, I’ll be home,” Chloe says.

“Cool,” Beca says, then types  _yes_.


	375. Chapter 375

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steca (Stacie/Beca) + “I’m not here to make friends.”

Beca doesn’t really know what to make of the Bellas.

Aubrey is… intense. And controlling. And a little too concerned with their personal lives.

(Seriously, if it weren’t extremely illegal, Aubrey probably would have preferred to execute Kori in the public square for sleeping with a Treble, rather than just kicking her out of the group.)

Speaking of people inclined to sleep with Trebles, Beca almost runs into Stacie as she’s coming out of the bathroom stall.

“Shoot, sorry,” Beca says. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.’

Stacie smiles easily. “No problem.” She leans over the sink and checks her hair in the mirror before pulling out a tube of lip gloss.

“So what do you think about the Bellas?” Beca asks, gesturing vaguely to the door before turning on the water to wash her hands. She’s curious as to  _why_  anyone would voluntarily sign up for—let alone  _care_  about—organized nerd singing.

“There’s more rules than I was expecting,” Stacie answers, carefully applying lip gloss. “But I should be able to work around them.”

Beca snorts. “Yeah, Aubrey needs more hobbies. And maybe a Xanax.”

Stacie chuckles before turning to Beca. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” Beca repeats confusedly.

“You don’t really seem to want to be here,” Stacie clarifies, raising an eyebrow.

“My dad wants me to socialize,” Beca says, rolling her eyes. 

“Oh, I’m not here to make friends, especially not after those dumb rules.” Stacie turns back to the mirror, deliberately pulling at the straps of her tank top so her bra straps show. “If you know what I mean.”

Beca stares at her in confusion. “No, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, now that I can’t sleep with Trebles, Aubrey’s actually looking pretty cute.” Stacie pauses. “So is Chloe.” She turns and looks at Beca thoughtfully. “So are you, actually.”

“Uh,” Beca says, feeling mildly alarmed.

“What are you doing Friday night?” Stacie asks, actually  _checking Beca out_  while biting her lip.

“Busy,” Beca says, maybe a little too loudly. “I’m busy. Doing… a thing. An important thing. Sorry.” 

Then she hightails it out of the bathroom.

What the hell did she sign up for?


	376. Chapter 376

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The kids, they ambushed me." + Bemily

Emily doesn’t really think twice about inviting Beca to come with her to her little cousin’s sixth birthday party—even though Beca talks to small children as if they’re adults, and grows noticeably irritated when children scream in restaurants.

To her credit, Beca seems to handle being around ten six- and seven-year-olds just fine. She only tries to talk to one of the kids about the state of the economy once before the subject is changed to monster trucks.

So Emily isn’t worried when she leaves Beca alone for a few minutes to run inside to help her aunt with some food prep.

When she comes back outside, Beca is standing uncomfortably in the driveway, soaking wet. Her eyeliner is running, giving her a raccoonish appearance. If that raccoon were dunked in a lake.

“What happened?” Emily asks, hurrying over.

“The kids,” Beca says, squeezing some water out of her shirt, “they ambushed me. With water balloons.”

“I am  _so_  sorry,” Emily says. “Let me get you a towel.”

“It’s fine. Just get me some balloons,” Beca says, eyes narrowing. “Those kids won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Beca, no,” Emily says firmly, putting her hands on the shorter girl’s shoulders. “No retaliation.”

Beca sighs. “ _Fine_ ,” she agrees. “Does your aunt have any clothes I could borrow?”

“Sure,” Emily says, taking Beca’s hand to lead her into the house. “I’ll help you get out of your wet clothes,” she offers coyly.

Beca just answers with an, “Mm-hm,” looking over her shoulder at the group of kids playing.

“Are you still thinking about hitting the kids with water balloons?” Emily asks.

Beca at least has the sense to look somewhat guilty. “Yes.”

Emily rolls her eyes.

Maybe they should stick to adult events in the near future.


End file.
